


血に縛られ、夢によって運命付けられた（Bound by Blood, Destined by Dreams）

by xLightningToki



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Ambiguous Age, Androgyny, Existential Crisis, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gender Issues, Hermaphrodites, Hurt Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, Immortals, Inspired by Maleficent (2014), Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Musician Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Mutual Pining, Narcolepsy, Roxas Is So Done (Kingdom Hearts), Roxas and Ventus Are Siblings (Kingdom Hearts), Roxas-centric (Kingdom Hearts), Sleeping Beauty Elements, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Sora Is a Ray of Sunshine (Kingdom Hearts), Sora's Heart-Guests (Kingdom Hearts), Sora-centric (Kingdom Hearts), Vampires, Vanitas Appreciation (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas Is Bad at Feelings (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas-centric (Kingdom Hearts), Ventus Appreciation (Kingdom Hearts), Ventus-centric (Kingdom Hearts), Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLightningToki/pseuds/xLightningToki
Summary: Sleeping Beauty / vampire AU.Fledgling vampire Roxas Chainblade has spent his entire short life confined in a common village inside Kingdom Hearts, a utopia where immortals of all different kinds coexist. His best friend and fellow vampire, Sora Lockhart, constantly watches him like a hawk due to his weak constitution and his recent narcolepsy attacks, but he is tired of being coddled 24/7.Yearning for freedom, the blond male vampire (at least, he thinks he is male) decides that enough is enough, and he sneaks away from home so that he can see what noble society is like for the first time. Meanwhile, vampire prince Ventus Wildmist and his partner Vanitas Voidstorm are searching for the former’s lost sibling, who was kidnapped fifteen years ago by the evil fairy Maleficent. It is only a matter of time before the four boys’ luck runs out.Illustrations: Chapter IV
Relationships: Roxas & Sora & Vanitas & Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Roxas & Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Roxas & Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts), Roxas & Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Roxas/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Sora & Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts), Sora & Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife, Vanitas & Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 43





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bound by Blood, Destined by Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/618514) by xLightningToki. 



> This story contains references to _UQ Holder!_ , _Sleeping Beauty_ and _Maleficent_ (2014). Also, _please_ read the end notes before reading this chapter. They will help clarify things that might not have been thoroughly explained in the text.
> 
> Updates might not be frequent, but I’ll do my best.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own _Kingdom Hearts_ or any of its elements whatsoever, just this story.  
> ※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of the lost little prince of Kingdom Hearts…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the end notes before reading this chapter. They will help clarify things that might not have been thoroughly explained in the text.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own _Kingdom Hearts_ or any of its elements whatsoever, just this story.  
> ※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

A brilliant sun. An azure sky. Lush woodlands and crystal-clear streams. A village where merchants at their stalls hollered at you to consider buying their goods as children dashed about, their laughs ringing in the air like silver bells. Glorious mansions outside the village gates, with intricate marble balconies and towers piercing through the clouds. And far away on a lone hill, a dazzling palace made out of gold, with ruby red curtains obscuring the windows.

This was the world of Kingdom Hearts, an absolute paradise. You would reckon that this kingdom was a perfect, stable utopia with nothing out of the ordinary upon first glance. Then you would take a good look at the citizens, and you would realize that something wasn’t quite…normal.

For one thing, there were rarely any elderly people. Everyone was so youthful and carefree, with abundant energy to spare. Even more bizarre were the occasional pointy ears, the oddly sophisticated words flowing from some children’s mouths, and even no cases of the common cold or the influenza, trivial as they might be for some.

No one here screamed _human_ to you, and you would have every right to think so. The truth was, they weren’t.

It was a kingdom beyond its time, where immortals and humanoid creatures of all kinds learned to live with each other in harmony. It was home to the nature-loving elves and nymphs, freely roaming spirits, mages of every caliber, trusty cyborgs with advanced technology at their disposal (and probably the only people whom we deem as “modern”), and the ever-apathetic vampires… The list went on and on.

And ruling them all was the imperial Wildmist family, led by the vampire Cloud and his part-hermaphrodite wife Tifa. And no, you did not misread that. Cloud married someone who was _not_ a vampire, so any hopes of maintaining a pure bloodline went down the drain—not like Cloud cared, because he didn’t. And hermaphrodites were members of a humanoid clan who were born genderless but could physically transition into any gender identity of their choosing if they aged past sixteen.

The couple already had a son named Ventus (“Ven” for short), who, along with his best friend Vanitas (a vampire noble and heir of the Voidstorm family), stopped aging in their mid-teens. The two boys were as different as night and day—Ven (with fair windswept hair and bright blue eyes) was a cheery and exuberant soul whose smile warmed everyone’s hearts, while Vanitas (with unruly ebony hair and golden eyes) was brooding and borderline uncouth to anyone who had the misfortune of simply talking to him. But they stuck to each other like glue and balanced each other out, so Cloud figured that they could both learn from each other. If it weren’t for their clashing personalities, many would have mistaken them for twins.

That being the case, Tifa’s body was frail and weak, so Cloud did not plan on having another child anytime soon. But Tifa stubbornly insisted for one, as she wanted Ventus to have a sibling to play with.

(“Don’t you know how lonely it is to be an only child?” she had asked Cloud.

“But Ven has Vanitas,” Cloud had replied, attempting to steer clear of the possibility of hurting Tifa.

“Well, yes. But Vanitas is a bit _vulgar_ for Ven, don’t you think?” Cloud couldn’t think of a counterargument, for Vanitas could be a rather bad influence sometimes, so the seal was closed.)

In the end, the royal couple managed to have another child, who so happened to inherit his father’s vampirism _and_ his mother’s partial hermaphroditism. Having heard of this, the parents decided not to learn of the baby’s possible gender until after the baby shower that would celebrate the infant’s birth, which had occurred on the thirteenth day of June. They _did_ know, however, that the baby shared Ven’s gravity-defying blond hair and blue irises, though the child’s stares were more intense and solemn. Nevertheless, those ocean blue orbs held a twinkle that refused to be snuffed out, and hence, the couple named the child “Lucian”.

The baby shower in the grand ballroom was a small and private event, the only guests being close confidants of the royal family. Naturally, the chaotic Vanitas was also invited, and it was expected that Ven kept an eye on the other vampire to prevent mischief that would most certainly lead to disaster and bruised egos. (Silencing him in the middle of a nitpicking rant was downright tedious. Subduing him while he was brawling against someone was even more of a hassle.) Otherwise, it was supposed to be quiet and orderly.

But the king had his fair share of enemies, so one of them was bound to turn everything upside down sooner or later, and now was the perfect time to do so.

A chorus of gasps and shrieks abruptly emerged as toxic green lightning crackled across the room, blasting apart bits of floor and breeding clouds of dust. When the particles finally cleared, a tall, horned figure stood amid the clutter, staff in hand. The aura radiating from the stranger was so suffocating that even Vanitas’s dark persona couldn’t compare to the one lurking before the crowd.

Ven huddled to hug Vanitas’s arm, and the black-haired immortal snarled under his breath, “It’s _her_.”

Before them stood a woman in a black cloak, with green skin, claw-like nails and an ugly sneer on her smooth face. It was Maleficent, a formidable fairy and the epitome of all evil, the most terrifying creature to ever saunter in the palace halls.

“My, my!” she exclaimed, relishing in the ghastly faces of her audience. “What a quaint celebration. I’m _so_ hurt that I was never invited.” But she continued smiling anyhow, flicking her nails carelessly as olive wisps whistled through her fingers.

Cloud leaned forward from his throne, a frown marring his face as he grasped the hilt of his sword. “Get out,” he growled.

“Oh, but I haven’t done anything!”

“I don’t care. Get out, I said.”

The fairy clicked her tongue. “Such a spoilsport, young king. I bear no ill will. I’m only here to bestow a gift to the child.” She lifted her chin toward the direction of the crib holding the newborn.

Cloud, Ventus and Vanitas simultaneously reached for their swords, ready to pounce on her at any moment. She ignored their venomous glares, instead walking towards the crib, her boots clicking noisily across the tiles.

Noting that the three males were drawing their weapons, she added nonchalantly, “I suggest you put those away before I destroy anyone here.”

Tifa’s breath hitched, and the swordsmen stilled. They knew better than to disregard the fairy’s threats—she could have released horrid curses without any warning if she so wished—and charging at her without a plan in motion could have dreadful consequences. There was no need to shed blood today.

Eyes stinging, Ven leaned towards his best friend and whispered, “Vani, I’m scared.”

Ven was not the kind of person who scared easily (especially since most vampires tended to have repressed emotions, specifically fear), but his kindred spirit couldn’t bring himself to disagree. Vanitas nodded and squeezed Ven’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know.”

Meanwhile, Maleficent was staring at the tot, who gazed back with impassive eyes. For so many years, the fairy had drenched herself in the fear and resentment oozing from others, and subsequently the sight of someone not even reacting to her presence irked her to no end. It was then that she decided that she immediately detested the child. She was a worldly, callous individual whose pride was excruciatingly bountiful, and there were only two things that brought her immense joy: watching faces smudged with horror and destroying anyone who dared to defy her.

Waving her index finger, rings of green smoke began to swirl around her and the crib. Cloud startled, but Maleficent paid him no heed. Once she started chanting a spell, there was no way to suspend it. “The child shall indeed grow in grace and beauty.” She paused, smirking as a bead of sweat dripped down Cloud’s chin, and her next words would forever shake the guests to the core.

“But before the sun sets on their fifteenth birthday, they will fall into a death-like sleep, a sleep from which they will _never_ awaken.”

Murmurs broke across the room. Tifa was as white as a sheet, her hands clinging to the arms of her throne.

“Why, you…!” Cloud unsheathed his sword, veins pulsing in his forehead. To think that this fay had the audacity to curse his family, and the imperial family, no doubt. She was practically asking for a public execution.

“No, stop, please!” Ven was reaching out to the crib while being held back by Vanitas, tears streaming down his pale face. His non-beating heart felt as it were being ripped into two. How could this woman hurt an innocent newborn? Who could consider such a dastardly deed? No sane person, human or otherwise, would ever contemplate it. “Not my sibling! Hurt me instead, but not my family. I’m begging you, _please_!”

“Ven, stop!” Vanitas gasped, clutching his friend’s torso. “She’ll hurt you, too! And she’s not done. Look.”

The blond blinked, and after wiping his eyes, saw that the rings of smoke had yet to dissipate. Maleficent was still hovering over the crib, her beady eyes glittering as she spoke again:

“The child can only be awoken from their death sleep, but only by… _True Love’s Kiss_ …” She susurrated those last words nastily with an ogre’s smile and, upon glancing at the young duo beside her, another malicious thought sprung to her. “…From one who had never heard of their origins and yet shares their face,” she jeered so that only the two boys could hear.

She was mocking them. She was imparting a curse nearly impossible to crack just to spite them, all because she wasn’t invited to a darn festivity!

Vanitas only saw white once he caught Ven’s eyes welling up again. No one was allowed to make him cry under his watch. “You shameless, conceited _dog_!” he barked, unsheathing his midnight-colored blade. “I’ll kill you!”

“Aw, he’s mad!” the wicked fairy cooed, raising a hand to her lips in a lady-like manner. “Then I guess I’ll entertain you further.”

“Bring it, old bat!” He prepared to swing the blade at Maleficent’s neck, but the fairy dodged at the last second and seized the child, who was ogling at the screaming guests with utter indifference.

“What are you doing?! Give Lucian back!” Cloud bellowed.

“Tut, tut,” said the fairy. “I’m not going to kill them; the curse would have no meaning, then. But to ensure that it comes to fruition…” She backed away, her eyes narrowing. “I’m going to drop them off at a place where you will never find them.” She grinned at the young prince, his face ashen and almost unresponsive, his eyelids rimmed red and lashes adorned with transparent drops, and his mind replaying the scene of the curse in loops. “Until we meet again.”

( _How about you never come back?_ Vanitas thought acrimoniously.)

She cackled as she knocked the end of her staff on the ground, and khaki-hued clouds burst everywhere. By the time they had dwindled away, the fairy and the baby were gone, not leaving a single trace behind.

Only silence reigned from that hour forth. There was no more of a party worth celebrating. Cloud was standing in the middle of the ballroom, frozen by the recent turn of events. All of the liveliness had been sucked away by the conniving creature with no soul.

Then Tifa inclined forward from her seat and began to sway downward.

“Tifa!” Cloud rushed to her side and caught her before she could land face down on the floor. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were clammy and moist. She was absolutely knocked out cold.

“Mom…!” Ven struggled to remain upright as he wobbled to his father, his knees in the midst of buckling. His baby blue irises, which once shone with laughter, were now clouded with unshed tears. Vanitas had never seen him so haunted. “Oh, my gosh, hang in there! _Mom!_ ”

Cloud swiveled his head to the guests, who were absorbed in their own terror. His steel eyes hardened as he recalled whatever that had happened before.

So far, no one outside this room knew anything about Lucian’s existence. If this news spread, the kingdom would certainly fall into pandemonium, especially with Maleficent on the loose. The words that would spill from his lips next tasted bitter to his tongue, but for the sake of his country, he had to take extreme measures. _If that was the right thing to do…_

He hissed intimidatingly at the crowd, “Not one word of this incident to anyone. Nothing about Maleficent, nothing about Tifa, and certainly _nothing_ about Lucian should leave these walls. That’s an order from your king; do you hear me?!”

He admitted later on that he wasn’t thinking straight, and that he owed his friends an apology for his austerity, but right now, his entire family had just suffered a major loss, so he allowed himself the liberty to lose himself to his grief. He had every right.

He thenceforth turned to his firstborn, who had taken his mother into his arms. “Ven, I’m going to send search parties after Maleficent and Lucian. Take care of your mother for me, okay?”

It was probably going to be a futile task, but darn it, he at least had to _try_.

Ven nodded back hesitantly, barely registering his father’s words. He, too, seemed as if he were going into shock.

Vanitas watched the ruined family from afar, pity in his usually taciturn eyes. Then he craned his neck at the ceiling and sighed, hoping that he could somehow erase the image of Ven’s sobs from his mind. How astonishing it was that that fairy was the first person to reduce Ven to such a state.

“Jeez…” His eyelids closed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I never even learned whether that little runt was Ven’s brother or sister.”

* * *

Beyond the outskirts of noble territory lived a peasant vampire couple known as the Lockharts. They weren’t dirt-poor as beggars, but they weren’t as affluent as minor nobles, either. They were just financially stable, capable of affording an average house with plain furniture and just enough food and blood to get by. The two recently had a son whose chocolate-colored hair was abominably scruffy and whose eyes reflected the summer sky. A fledgling angel amongst the blood-sucking predators, the toddler had been christened Sora.

It was late one cool summer night when the couple heard a short series of raps from their house’s main door after having tucked Sora to bed. The two glanced at each other with furrowed eyebrows, wondering who would visit them at this hour. Now wasn’t the time to have guests, and all people with the gall to stop by were expected to state their business before they could be granted entry, no matter their station.

The husband cautiously treaded to the source of the noise and turned the doorknob ever so slowly so as to not rouse his son (though the creaks still stung his sensitive ears). His wife, who was following right behind him, glanced downward from his shoulder and gasped, “Honey, look.”

Lying at their doorstep was a bundle of blankets made from the most luxurious material that anyone could buy. And wrapped inside those thick cloths was an infant with muddled golden locks and eyes as deep as the sea. But there was no note on the blankets, more or less a name stitched onto them.

“A baby?” His parental instincts taking over, the father gently picked up the child and cradled him in his arms. “Who in their right mind would leave a baby out here at such a cold night?”

“Who would _leave_ a baby like that?” the mother refuted, reaching forward to brush away the blond bangs from the small forehead. “Oh, that poor darling! Whose child is it?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

The parents took the child into the comforts of their home and, after thinking long and hard over what to do about their situation, supposed that they had room for one more resident. It was obvious that this baby had been abandoned, but the Lockharts were virtuous people who could never bear to see such an innocent young thing suffer. Besides, it would be nice if Sora had a playmate around his age.

“What should we name the baby?” the mother asked as she rocked the newborn, who was busy fiddling with the woman’s hair. Up until this point, the Lockharts had attempted to decipher the baby’s gender but couldn’t pinpoint it, so giving the young one an overly feminine or masculine name was essentially degrading. Nevertheless, they had a nagging feeling that the baby wouldn’t appreciate a girly name, but they couldn’t explain _why_.

The father hummed thoughtfully, scrutinizing the child’s sunny hair and cavernous eyes, their seemingly naïve gaze as sharp as knives. The hair and eyes certainly contrasted each other, but the man had an impression that this child was destined to become something splendid.

And deep down, the father hoped that this tiny creature would become Sora’s dearest kin someday soon, his other half.

“Roxas,” he decided, affectionately ruffling the tufts of blond hair. “Roxas Chainblade.”

And thus, the story of the lost little prince was born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trivia:**
> 
>   * This story contains elements from _UQ Holder!_ regarding immortality in this world. In fact, all human-like characters here are some kind of immortal that may or may not pass as human.
>   * Vampires can feed on things besides blood, but blood is their favorite source of iron. Giving away blood to feed vampires is voluntary in this world, but also greatly appreciated. There are also such things as blood drives for medical purposes, of course.
>   * Vampires are a typically apathetic species, so human desires such as food, water or…illicit activities…are of little to no importance to them.
>   * Vanitas’s hairstyle here is the same as Sora’s current one.
>   * Roxas’s gender crisis is a rather difficult issue to write (as I don’t have much knowledge over it), so I’ll try to be ambiguous about it without sounding offensive. Let’s just say that Roxas is in a situation similar to that of Kurōmaru from _UQ Holder!_ : he identifies as male, but his body is a bit too androgynous for his liking.
>   * Just to clarify, the definition of hermaphrodites in this case is similar to that used in _UQ Holder!_ , not the scientific definition.
> 



	2. Chapter I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sora and Roxas are hooligans as usual, Sora is flustered and Roxas is amused, while Ventus and Vanitas ponder over their current predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the end notes before reading this chapter. They will help clarify things that might not have been thoroughly explained in the text.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own _Kingdom Hearts_ or any of its elements whatsoever, just this story.  
> ※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

“Roxas, stop running! I can’t catch up!”

“Then start exercising more, silly Sora!”

“ _You’re_ the one who’s straining his body here! Go back home! I promised Mom and Dad that I’d watch over you, and now I’m failing at my one job!”

“It’s _your_ fault for being such a worrywart. Look, I didn’t fall asleep today! That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Argh, don’t jinx it!”

Almost fifteen years had passed ever since the mysterious blond infant was found on the Lockharts’ doorstep. Sora and Roxas had been raised together ever since, and they spent the early stages of their youth sprinting across the streets like wild dogs and dueling each other with wooden swords. When they weren’t roughhousing, they were running errands for Sora’s parents and conversing good-naturedly with their neighbors. It really wasn’t difficult to love those two adventurers: Sora was practically a ray of sunshine who always encouraged people to follow their hearts, while Roxas was quiet and sarcastic but never hesitated to help those in need. You never saw one boy without the other, and accordingly, the villagers avowed that the youngsters were two sides of the same coin, so to speak.

As they grew older, the boys began to train with real swords and abandoned the wooden props. In less than a year, they were renown as child prodigies, with Sora as the master of a great sword, and Roxas as the first in ages to successfully wield dual blades.

But it was around the same time when Roxas started to have random sleep spells wherever he went. He’d suddenly doze off while strolling, nearly giving his neighbors heart attacks. The village doctors diagnosed him with narcolepsy, and therefore, the Lockharts instructed their son to accompany Roxas whenever he stepped outside. In a sense, Sora had been appointed as Roxas’s trusty bodyguard.

Of course, did that stop Roxas from wandering about at whatever time he pleased? Heck, no.

Nothing stopped him even though he was growing paler and thinner by his demolished sleep schedule. Nothing could, despite Sora’s increasing paranoia for the blond boy’s health. And if people had the nerve to call attention to how _small_ he appeared—well, he always had that black coat in his closet to cover himself. (It didn’t bother him, right? It was a trivial issue compared to his snooze attacks, so it shouldn’t matter to him, right?)

That kid’s stubbornness was probably his most alarming trait yet.

Today, he was up in his usual antics, sneaking out of Sora’s house in hopes of finding something intriguing in this peaceful little town (those dreams were dashed, though, as the inhabitants followed the same routine _every single day_ ), only for Sora to sniff his lingering scent and proceed on chasing him by the tail like a maniac.

Passers-by were giving the boys odd looks as they scurried across the streets, one laughing like a hyena and the other screeching like a banshee. Reaching the Lockharts’ house, Roxas then hauled open the door and dashed to his room, but Sora had accomplished in overtaking the blond, tackling him to the bed, where they continued to tickle, wrestle and squeal at each other as they rolled around the mattress.

Eventually, Sora had Roxas pinned to the bed, their hands clasped together as they stared at each other with flushed faces, their breaths shallow. The brunette grinned cheekily at the blond and boasted, “I won.”

“No, you didn’t,” Roxas replied, smiling all the same; “I let you.”

“Heh. Stop lying.” And then he couldn’t help but notice.

Roxas’s cheeks were rosy from adrenaline, his eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. His lashes were thick and long, and his face looked so soft and smooth, tiny fangs protruding behind lips that curled lopsidedly.

Sora didn’t know why, but he suddenly thought that if his vampiric heart could beat, it would do so painfully and send tremors through his chest. Blood was already rushing to his face.

_Since when I thought that Roxas was pretty?! He looks like a porcelain doll…! Ahh! Shut it, stupid brain!_

His face was so red that he looked ready to explode. And why was Roxas raising an incriminating eyebrow at him? Was he acting up again? It wasn’t his fault that he was born so energetic!

Then the blond said casually, “Hey, are you going to let me go now?”

…Huh?

Sora gradually tilted his head downward, only to discover that he was still holding Roxas down on the bed.

Ah, right. Oops.

Struck awake by his stupor, Sora jerked back and flailed his arms. Where in the world did that unfamiliar feeling come from?! “I… I’m sorry!” He was a blubbering mess. “I don’t know what came over me, I swear!”

Roxas huffed in amusement as he watched Sora squirm. That boy was too adorable for his own good; he was basically the humanoid exemplification of a squirrel caught stealing an acorn. “It’s fine.” He stretched his arms out as if asking for a hug. “Come here, you doofus.”

Sora stared back and blinked. Roxas wasn’t the kind of person who initiated acts of affection. “You sure?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m tired, come on.” His voice was as dry as stale bread. “And I’m not saying it again.”

Aha. He wanted to use Sora as a blanket, huh? At least he wasn’t going to nap face down in the middle of the road. Sora wouldn’t know how to explain that phenomenon to his parents, and he didn’t want a scolding over being negligent, thank you very much.

The brunette sighed, tousling his crown-shaped hair. He couldn’t handle a grumpy Roxas. “If you insist…”

He let himself fall on top of Roxas’s chest, glancing absentmindedly at the four-pointed star charm on the other boy’s vest. His arms wrapped around Roxas’s waist ( _Was it always that thin?_ he briefly wondered), and Roxas hummed as he encircled his arms around Sora’s neck. They simply lied there, listening to the birds singing outside and basking in the sunshine that filtered through the window.

Savoring both the warmth from the sun and Roxas’s body, Sora relaxed, his eyes drooping. Funny that Roxas was the one who wanted to sleep, and yet Sora was the one doing so instead. His mind was about to shut down from pure bliss when Roxas whispered to him, “Hey, Sora?”

“Hmm?” he muttered groggily, nuzzling his nose into Roxas’s neck.

Roxas licked his lips, contemplating on choosing his words carefully. After a few seconds of silence, he continued, “You know, I’ve always wondered what the noble territory outside this village is like.”

“Yeah?” Sora yawned. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in aristocratic grounds, either, but members of the nobility were often arrogant and surly. He couldn’t bring himself to trust them so easily. “What about it?”

“I want to go there some day.”

“Good luck with that,” Sora muttered. “You won’t last a day without me thanks to your narcolepsy; my parents would have my head if I let you leave like that.”

“You’re such a scaredy-cat.” Sora actually yowled at him in response. “No, really, you are. You keep on babying me like I’m some sort of fragile doll. Haven’t you any faith in me?”

“I…” The brown-haired boy groaned and shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to drag himself into a screaming match with his best friend. “You know I can’t let you go. It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, but until a miracle happens that fixes your stupid condition, I can’t…” He yawned again, and his eyelids shut without his consent. “I’m supposed…to protect you…”

A sudden stillness was registered in Roxas’s ears. The fair-haired youth turned to find Sora already snoring, having succumbed to his drowsiness, and the blond scoffed to himself. Typical Sora.

“Sora,” he whispered, cradling the other boy’s head. “You’re always so loud, saying that you’ll protect everyone. But I can’t just stay here any longer; it’s too dreary and lonely.” He regarded the window, images of ancient mansions and other unfamiliar sights swarming in his brain, and his heart clenched.

This town was too smothering here, too dismal, too desolate and too tiny. And he wanted out this instant. That freedom that he hadn’t had in years and the sheer curiosity were too much to bear. He wasn’t about to let a silly medical condition impede him, and he certainly wasn’t planning on being an invalid for eternity.

_That’s not the reason why I’m alive._

He brushed aside Sora’s bangs and pressed a kiss to his temple. “So, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to hurt you. I’m sorry, but please let me be selfish for once.”

Sora didn’t reply.

* * *

Vanitas Voidstorm groaned as he slouched over a tea table, twirling a glass filled with ruby liquid between his fingers. He had been lazing in his private quarter all afternoon, waiting for Prince Ventus to visit him like he would almost every day.

As the current head of the Voidstorm family, Vanitas owned a ginormous mansion whose walls reflected the same tint as his irises. The halls were overlaid with velvety carpets and fragrant blossoms galore, and there were sitting rooms and bedrooms and gardens befitting a king. Paintings of forests and mythical landscapes in every corridor were sealed in swirled bronze frames, and a glass chandelier loitered on the ceiling of the estate’s single ballroom.

Vanitas did not give a darn about these beautiful possessions that most civilians would die for. They were of no use to him and provided no entertainment whatsoever for his incessantly jaded brain. And that chandelier was practically a safety hazard to mankind. What if it fell one day and hit an unfortunate fellow on the head? That would be a stimulating article in the kingdom newspapers.

In all honesty, Vanitas initially wanted to sell the entire property, but Ven always popped in whenever he could, treating it like a second home, so unless King Cloud thought it appropriate for Vanitas to live at the palace, he was stuck with the manor.

On the other hand, Vanitas deliberated how long the house would last with Ven abusing it thanks to his daily presence, and today was no better.

“I’m home!” Ven cried cheerily as he kicked open the bedroom door, nearly causing the other lad to upset his drink. Vanitas twisted around to glare at the prince, eyebrows twitching.

“Ven, what the _heck_?” he demanded, his fingers tapping frenetically on the tablecloth. “Can’t you just walk in like a normal person?” Considering that no one in this kingdom was truly human, the request was indeed ineffective.

“Well, that wouldn’t be any fun, would it?” Ven retorted, prancing around as if he owned the place. (Vanitas wished it were the case; he hated the mansion with a passion. The sheer amount of gold was going to blind him in the unforeseeable future.) “Didn’t you want to see me? I made sure to return early today so we can further develop our budding bromance together!”

“You disgust me,” Vanitas snapped, but the comment harmlessly soared past Ven’s head, the blond beaming at his partner infuriatingly.

“Don’t be like that, Vani! I’m going to give you lots of hugs to make up for everything!” And he immediately launched himself at the noble, snaking his arms around the other’s chest.

“Gah! Hands _off_!” But he made no effort to shake his friend off, accepting his fate as the prince almost squeezed the life out of him. The things that Vanitas did for Ven sometimes…

It took Ven several agonizing seconds to loosen his hold on Vanitas, his head settling on Vanitas’s shoulder. The latter sensed a muted sigh flutter by his ear, turning his head to catch a glimpse of his friend’s visage, whose previously joyous expression had sobered significantly. Ven typically wasn’t a serious person, nor did this countenance exactly suit him in Vanitas’s opinion, and in consequence, the ebony-haired adolescent lightly nudged his head at Ven’s cheek.

“Any news regarding Lucian and Maleficent’s whereabouts?” he murmured.

Ven swayed his head to-and-fro. “None as usual, I’m afraid. I visited the village today and met a family who had adopted a girl, whose name was Lucy Ann, several years ago. And before you say that might be merely a matter of pronunciation, I ought to inform you that her history does not correspond with our Lucian’s in the slightest. She was born a street urchin in another country, and her parents promptly deserted her at an orphanage, wanting nothing to do with her, merely viewing her as a burden. And she has brown hair and olive-green eyes, so we’re back to square one.”

“Shame,” said Vanitas. “And here, I thought that we were making progress somewhere.” Watching Ven’s lips curl in a tiny frown, he chided, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You’re not the type to abandon hope so easily, so have some more faith in yourself, won’t you?”

“It’s been almost exactly fifteen years, and I still haven’t found any clues. I don’t know what to do at this point. My sibling is out there in harm’s way, and I can’t do anything to help.” Ven exhaled again and released Vanitas, stretching his arms behind his head. “But you’re encouraging me for once in your life. What have I done to deserve such a miracle?”

“What, you want me to take it back?”

“Goodness, no! I’ll take what I can get.” The prince clenched his trembling fist, biting his lips. Had his brilliant eyes possessed their traditional sparkle, it was at present a severely churning whirlpool of hollowness—a suitable guise for a member of the imperial family. “But I’ll vouch this: if I ever see that horrid witch again, she will absolutely _pay_ for her insolence.”

Vanitas’s eyebrows rose so high that they were nearly concealed by his bangs. “Oho? Ven is actually _angry_. Who would’ve known that you had it in you? I must have been a bad influence.”

“Well,” said Ven, placing a hand on his jutted hip, “I learned from a certain someone that I shouldn’t stay a wimp and pushover all my life. If that fairy’s prophecy is heck-bent on becoming a reality, I say screw it all.”

“He said ‘screw it all’,” Vanitas puffed, reptile-like eyes widening in something akin to astonishment. “The ever-eloquent Prince Ventus, His Royal Highness, has managed to utter something improper. The world is about to come to an end!”

“Hush, you little gremlin,” Ven giggled; “I can say whatever I please. It wasn’t even that coarse!”

“I beg to differ.”

Ven pouted, settling himself atop a chair adjacent to Vanitas and crossing his limbs elegantly. Vanitas leaned back into his seat and sipped the last drops of blood from his glass, licking his lips while savoring the alleged delicacy.

Compared to most immortals, vampires had quite an oddly acquired predilection. Blood was as prevalent to them as wine was to human adults. Depending on the blood donor, the nocturnal creatures claimed that the cherry-colored liquid could taste sweet or tangy or salty despite the metallic residue left on other people’s tongues.

Perhaps vampires’ taste buds were simply defective, but how would Vanitas know?

Ven’s eyes were supposedly boring holes into the walls across the room, but it was obvious from Vanitas’s angle that they were unfocused, for the golden-eyed boy had been exposed to Ven’s scatterbrained nature for years successively. The juvenile lord set down his glass and inquired, “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hm?” Ven positioned his elbows over the table and rested his chin on his open palms. “Just thinking about something.”

“Spit it out, then. I haven’t gotten all day.”

“Rude.” He jerked his head at Vanitas’s direction. “You know that Lucian was abducted by Maleficent during the baby shower…”

“Well, duh. I was there.”

“Yeah, yeah. But after all this time, we still don’t know Lucian’s gender. That vital piece of information could have narrowed down our search and saved us a lot of time, you hear?”

“Probably a girl,” Vanitas drawled carelessly. “That curse practically turned the kid into some damsel in distress—though they’ll live, of course.”

“Now that is just being sexist. Where did you even devise such a notion?”

“Don’t look at me! All of those blasted fairytales have the same scenario—local girl is rescued by her Prince Charming on a white horse, or something of the sort.”

“I ought to have those books banned,” Ven muttered half-jokingly, elevating an arm to the ceiling as if to issue a command to a band of soldiers. “Burn them all, I say!”

“Oh, I’ll _pay_ to see that!” the dark-haired boy cackled. Then he unwounded himself and added, “But really, would you prefer that Lucian is a boy or a girl?”

Ven paused for a few seconds, imagining all possible scenarios, and later shrugged. “I don’t care. I would spoil Lucian rotten either way!”

He could already see himself amusing his younger sibling: teaching them how to ride a horse, playing tag in the royal gardens and stargazing together on cloudless nights. A rosy tint bloomed on the distracted young gentleman’s face, and Vanitas swore that he saw flowers as Ven’s aura.

_Gross._

The noble faced away and pretended to gag. “Ugh, you’re way too soft.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trivia:**
> 
>   * Whether Ventus has or has not inherited Tifa’s hermaphroditism is up to your interpretation. Just note that he has stopped aging at about sixteen years old.
>   * Roxas’s sleep attacks are not as random as one might think. They commenced after Roxas turned fourteen, so the situation is probably what you expect…
> 



	3. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter centering around Roxas and Vanitas. Basically, Roxas breaks into a house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the end notes before reading this chapter. They will help clarify things that might not have been thoroughly explained in the text.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own _Kingdom Hearts_ or any of its elements whatsoever, just this story.  
> ※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

People used to declare that mornings signified a fresh rebirth, a stage in which one could recuperate from or disregard any unsolicited incidents the day prior. In modern terms, the motto was recognized as “new day, new me”—assuming that one was capable of relinquishing miseries that easily.

For Roxas the next day, it was the time when he permitted his utmost and profoundest desires to run loose.

He had woken up to the sound of birds chirping and the heat of the sun rising over the horizon before stuffing various kinds of essentials into his bleakly shaded backpack—a bottle of water, simple munchies, his wallet, a few vials of blood, some other vials of enchanted elixirs, hygienic products, a map that he snagged from the town library, his Gummiphone (one of the few up-to-date inventions that this nation provided), his narcolepsy medication (because he couldn’t afford to end up dozing off at who knows where) and a novel for his own recreation, among other things. It was a marvel that they all fit into one baggage, and luckily, Roxas could withstand such weight.

He had tiptoed across the whole house’s interior so as to not stir the Lockharts. After packing his necessities, he grabbed his black coat from his closet and flung it over his shoulders (as expected of a vampire to wear such obscure apparel), zipping it so that it concealed his shirt and the top half of his slacks, all of which were the same shade as the coat. Then he donned equally murky pairs of boots and gloves before studying his reflection in the mirror. He was greeted by the sight of an adolescent who bore a great resemblance to a shadow—lanky and slender, with a lack of dazzling hues or extra width to spare, supplemented by a set of stormy eyes glowering back at him.

Those garments weren’t necessarily high-class, per se, but at least he didn’t look like a beggar, nor did he have a beggar’s face.

Growing tired of his visual echo, Roxas tied a strap around his waist and sheathed his faithful swords inside the attached scabbards. Restituting his phone into one of the coat’s pockets, Roxas sighed. He had sent a message to Sora’s phone earlier, stating that he would be going out for a bit in the vaguest fashion that he could muster, too giddy to realize how illogical this action was. Hopefully, Sora would be understanding, but Roxas didn’t care at the moment.

Well, whatever; he could deal with the consequences later. It wasn’t like he was defenseless or anything; he had pummeled aggressors over twice his size and regularly surveyed his surroundings (not to mention that he was a proficient swordsman and a decent spellcaster), so there was nothing to fuss over. Heaving his backpack with a newfound assurance, he cautiously crept his way into Sora’s bedroom, the soles of his boots inaudible against the floor’s wooden planks.

Sora was lying haphazardly on his bed, arms flailed apart from his body and his blanket a tangled heap over his torso and legs. His russet hair poked outward in disastrous angles, and he was snoring peacefully, his fangs glistening in the sunlight.

Roxas gazed at the other teenager fondly, stifling a giggle behind a gloved hand. Even while sleeping, Sora was comically adorable.

“I’ll be going now,” he whispered to deaf ears. “I don’t think you’ll approve of me departing, but this will be the first time that I’ll actually have an adventure and be able to visit new places. But rest assured that I’ll come back.”

Sora mumbled something incoherent under his breath—probably about paopu fruit, Roxas figured. An inexplicable wave of warmth washed his chest, and he scrunched a fist over his heart. He couldn’t name this emotion, but it felt curiously pleasant.

Leaning downward, he impulsively placed a soft kiss into Sora’s hair before taking his leave and putting on his hood, and he breathed, “See you around.”

He was so eager to embark on a new journey that he never bothered to check the calendar, the current date indicated as the thirteenth day of June.

* * *

Entering aristocratic terrain without being seen was surprisingly easy owing to Roxas’s superhuman abilities. He could dart back and forth in swift blurs and, being incredibly agile, could land gracefully on almost any available projectile, whether it be a brick wall or a roof or a metal pole (though crouching on top of one was not exactly comfortable).

Roxas had to admit that he stood out amongst the populace, swathed in only black, but he was still presentable, for there were no patches, holes or slashes to be spotted on his attire. Most civilians didn’t spare him a second glance, believing him to be a hitchhiking tourist. The concept relieved him somewhat, since he was in fact quite socially awkward when it came to meeting strangers. Sora was certainly more extraverted than Roxas could ever be, and definitely more talkative.

The blond drank all of his observations like a leech, marveling at the grandees’ lovely costumes, their peculiarly stiff mannerisms and almighty attitudes. He ogled hypnotically at the grand and archaic architecture, ravenously whiffed the expensive dishes served at luxurious bistros, and nearly started when he saw peacocks exhibiting their magnificent tail feathers in the lawns. He might have envied the nobles just a little bit for their wonderful fortune, but he couldn’t tolerate their rigidly followed etiquette, which he deemed as literal torture to one’s soul. In a sense, he supposed that they had less freedom than the provincials had. His neighbors didn’t have much, but they seemed more content and unregimented. No one sneered at them whenever they accidentally made fools of themselves.

Roxas had ended up depleting a lot of his energy just by walking, having exhausted his snacks and blood supply in merely a matter of hours. He should have called it a day by now and returned home, but there was still one goal that he had yet to accomplish, and he did not intend to renounce it:

He was going to infiltrate a nobleman’s house.

His determination substituting his fatigue, he judged the mansions again and narrowed his eyes. One of the mansions had an unshackled front gate. Using common sense, leaving a front gate unlocked should be extraordinarily idiotic, but Roxas didn’t think that the nobles were _that_ dimwitted. (Weren’t they always so paranoid that they only settled for state-of-the-art security?)

The gilded estate was probably a trap, but that didn’t make it any less intriguing. There was no way the resident there would leave the gate open without a good reason—unless he was willing enough to let his possessions get stolen.

Well, no one was watching Roxas now, so he might as well seize this opportunity.

Tentatively shuffling to the gate, he poked his index finger through one of the gate’s plentiful gaps, and relaxed when he learned that he wasn’t going to get electrocuted, be brutally sprayed with water or swatted away like a house fly. There, he shoved the gate open and finally stepped into the mansion’s front yard.

“Whoa…” he gasped.

Afore him was a sea of wildflowers of every color, shape and size, their petals dancing to the direction of the mild breeze and their fragrance carpeting the landscape. The lush foliage of the voluminous trees and shrubs were trimmed into diverse, amusing shapes as if the florae themselves had been sculpted. Stone fountains were scattered all around the vast patch, streaming water that sparkled in the daylight. Grassy pathways twisted in all directions like snakes, save for one in the middle that was molded into a straight line, leading unswervingly to the villa’s front door.

Roxas laughed and danced merrily to the main entrance—a lone, dark figure amid a kaleidoscopic meadow. An aberrantly large grin spread across his youthful face as his toes gracefully hopped on the grass. The foreign but crisp air obliged his cheeks to develop a faint blush, and if he peeled off his hood, he would have appeared as any other healthy boy who lived on the moors.

After he had finished enjoying the scenery, Roxas stopped at the door and tilted his neck upward. Some of the rooms were hidden from view by velvet curtains, but there was a balcony on the third floor whose entrance to a bedroom was wide open. The boy then studied the outer wall of the residence and smirked to himself.

Climbing up the wall? Easy-peasy.

He slowly backed away from the barrier, his legs crouched. Then, he kicked off the ground with lightning speed and zoomed up the sturdy surface so that he appeared to be moving sideways from a typical pedestrian’s point of view. Finally, he latched onto the bars of the balcony and flipped, landing on the tough floor with a flourish.

“Whew…”

His adrenaline rush had come to an end, for he was now huffing and puffing heavily whilst he clamped his hands onto his knees. His stomach churned, but the blond ignored the sensation as he straightened himself and chanted a spell to cleanse his boots, soon stepping into the chamber.

Essentially everything inside was dyed either a rich cream or a fine ember, including the armchairs and tablecloths plastering petite stalls. There was a thick carpet, and a shelf crammed with hundreds of books, and silk curtains concealing a king-sized bed in addition to satin pillows and duvets and a canopy. Contiguous with the walls were an enormous wardrobe, a dressing table and mirror, and an enclosed hearth with a crackling fire. The only dusky accessories remaining were the royal violet curtains that served to cover the doors preceding the veranda.

Roxas’s fascination with the room was short-lived, however, as he heard footsteps clacking towards the door. His hands flew to the hilts of his swords as the ingress was opened and a surly gentleman treaded inside.

He was about as tall and as physically young as Roxas, with spiky ebony hair and eyes reminiscent of the sun. His clothes were mostly black like Roxas’s: a waistcoat underneath a tailcoat with gold and crimson trimming, a pair of slacks and pumped boots. And his face…

“Sora…?” the blond whispered, then shook his head, knowing full well that even though the other adolescent strongly resembled his childhood friend and himself, he was certainly unfamiliar. Plus, Sora never mentioned having a cousin, more or less a twin. “No, you’re not him.”

“Huh? Who’s Sora?” asked Vanitas monotonously, and then he glared accusingly at Roxas upon noticing his presence. “Anyway, who the heck are you, and how did you get into my room?!”

As a matter of fact, Vanitas had every right to panic. The mansion was coated with jinxes to deter trespassers; only members of the royal family had access to it besides the proprietor himself. Yet somehow, a shady alien sporting a cloak had managed to bypass those hexes without suffering any repercussions. But how was Vanitas to know for sure that this stranger was also a sovereign? He was a better warrior than magician.

The newcomer spoke in a low but boyish voice—a teenager, Vanitas realized. “My name’s Roxas Chainblade. Oh, and I ran up the wall. Don’t you know that your security absolutely sucks?”

“You ran up the…” Oh, gosh; the brat was an immortal, wasn’t he? But that still didn’t explain how he evaded those spells… “You know what? I’m too tired for this garbage. You’re an immortal, right? What kind?”

“Vampire.”

Great. That explained how he managed to get here without any injuries. “All right. Now what the heck are you doing in my room?”

“Oh, so this is _your_ room.” _Cheeky buzzard._ “It’s nice; you’re really lucky. Anyway, I just wanted to explore a bit. I’ve never been on noble grounds before, you see.”

“Yeah, but you can’t just barge into my house!”

“Your gate was literally unlocked; you were practically asking for it. Be glad that I’m not here to steal your precious belongings.”

Vanitas didn’t know whether to be exasperated or impressed by the youngster’s sass. Recalling that he knew no one else who shared his fondness for dry humor, he chose the latter. (It wasn’t every day that he could find someone who was as sullen as him.) And although the other vampire was masking his face, his shockingly clear eyes portrayed only honesty.

Meanwhile, Roxas couldn’t help but feel relaxed around the young lord’s company. Unlike other peers, the black-haired chap stood in a laidback posture and spoke in a casual (albeit uncultured) manner. The blond couldn’t come to grips with snobs, so meeting someone with a similarly sardonic persona was rather refreshing.

The aforementioned party placed his hands on his hips and simpered. “You know what, kid? I like you; you’ve got spunk. Still don’t know how you beat my security, but you’re the first to ever succeed, so I’ll give you some credit. I’m still going to question you later, though, so don’t think that you’re off the hook.” He pointed a thumb to himself. “The name’s Vanitas Voidstorm. I won’t say it again, so you better remember it, you hear?”

Roxas chuckled, lightly nipping his chin. “Yeah, yeah. I got it memorized.” Afterwards, he elicited the other boy’s words and raised an eyebrow. “But why are you calling me a kid?”

“Uh, because you _are_ one, right?”

“Now you’re making assumptions. Then how old are _you_?”

“Why should I tell you that?! How old are _you_?”

“I’m exactly as what I appear to be. You?”

“Ha! I’m a full-grown adult! Therefore, you better respect your elders!”

“What, so you’re an old man?”

The two bickered back and forth, unpredictably growing closer in spite of the nasty insults being thrown at one another. It was, to be frank, an unusual sight—a peasant boy and a patrician, in the same room with analogous stances concerning life and society. For a moment, they both wholly forgot their more pressing subjects at hand, simply content to find someone comfortable enough to talk to in a world where they were frequently misunderstood.

The untailored atmosphere was precipitously broken when Roxas groaned and keeled over, fingers grasping at his throat. Vanitas widened his eyes as he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Beads of sweat began to drip from Roxas’s hidden face as the flaxen teenager respired harshly. Lifting his head to meet Vanitas’s regard, he rasped, “…I’m thirsty.”

By thirsty, he meant thirsty for blood. It pained him to admit it. Personally, he didn’t care much for the cerise fluid (it tasted nothing like sea salt ice cream, his all-time favorite treat), but like all vampires, he could hardly survive without the necessary iron intake, or else he would collapse without his narcolepsy kicking in.

Vanitas furrowed his eyebrows, not comprehending the situation. “Jeez, you didn’t have to overreact…” But then he noticed how ashen the other boy’s cheeks were, and he carped under his breath. “Drat. You need blood, don’t you?”

Roxas groaned again and nodded, his teeth gritted.

Double drat. Vanitas was not one for sharing rations, but there was no way he would let the kid fade under his watch; he was the first comrade that Vanitas made in years besides Ven. It was already astonishing that Ven had agreed to become friends with someone so sour.

The noble disheveled his murky locks and sighed, wondering what he had done to deserve becoming the fledgling’s babysitter. “Fine. Sit down. I’ll get you something from my stock.”

Roxas grunted in reply as Vanitas rushed out of his room, too subjugated by his own ache to speak. His gasps were even coarser and shorter than before, his head pounded, his stomach felt as if it had been punched, and his heart felt as if it were being squeezed. He bit his lip to repress a cry.

A few agonizing minutes later, Vanitas scampered back, holding a filled vial while Roxas clutched his coat. The courtier shoved the flask at Roxas’s face, the blond of which eyeballed it savagely, his pupils contracted.

In a flash, Roxas seized the vial and downed the blood in one gulp, discarding his manners in the interim. Life returned to his skin, but the youth was silently seething. His recent narcolepsy had disrupted his methodical sleeping patterns, thus deteriorating his immune system. Once again, someone was forced to assist him at his weakest moment. It was a blow to his pride.

“Thanks,” he eventually ground out, his dignity smarting.

“Don’t sweat about it,” Vanitas responded, producing a commiserative frown that Roxas despised. “But what was that all about?”

A huff. “Side effects of a medical condition that I have. It won’t kill me, but…I don’t want to talk about it.”

The poor boy looked so miserable that Vanitas deemed it wise to drop the subject. Was Roxas here to pull stunts with the intention of defying his ailment? Was that why he was so determined to come here—because he felt helpless and alone, frustrated that he possessed a feeble body aside from existing as a fearsome superhuman being? Was this his only means of salvation?

_Argh, darn it all!_

Biting his lip, Vanitas hesitantly walked to Roxas’s side and placed a hand on the blond boy’s shoulder. “Okay, listen up.”

Roxas obliged, his large eyes meeting Vanitas’s.

The nobleman’s cheeks were stark red. “I’m…giving you permission to sightsee my house.” He winced when he saw Roxas’s eyes shimmer with delight, and added hurriedly, “Just don’t make a mess of it, all right?! It’s still my property, so I expect you to act responsible!”

 _Besides, if anything gets destroyed, Ven will kill me,_ he failed to point out.

Roxas nodded fervently, grinning from ear to ear and ignoring Vanitas’s insecurity. He didn’t expect his wish to be granted so effortlessly; thus, he was more than ready to take this chance. “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t think much of it.” Then Vanitas raised an eyebrow when Roxas grabbed the former’s wrist. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Don’t you know?” Roxas asked chirpily. ( _What a terrifying mood swing,_ Vanitas thought.) “I need you to be my tour guide. And since we’re friends, I’d like you to accompany me!”

Vanitas blinked dumbly, replaying those words in his mind.

Friends? Did Roxas truly consider Vanitas as a friend, even though they had only known each other for a couple of minutes? Even though Vanitas could be such a malicious boor?

Not many people had stated agreeable factors about him, but he always held those scarce compassionate companions dear. Perhaps it was time for him to stop abhorring himself. If Ven and Roxas were willing to stay with him, wouldn’t that be promising?

Somehow, this mysterious child had wormed his way into Vanitas’s heart without either of them realizing.

The recently instated lord flashed the veiled adolescent a genuine smile as he allowed said boy to drag him out of the bedchamber, his chest light with a rare, newborn affection. “Yeah, I suppose we are.”

* * *

Handling Roxas was like handling a toddler. The kid tugged Vanitas to approximately a dozen corridors and commented at just about every object in sight. He attempted to search for his reflection in the fragile glassware on the dining table and even raided the refrigerator in the kitchen, causing Vanitas to nearly regret this so-called life-changing field trip. What would Ven say if he discovered this entire ordeal?

And yes, Roxas found the ballroom, too. Ironically, he also believed that the chandelier was a hazard to society. Who knew? Apparently, great minds thought alike.

In the end, the fair-haired vampire insisted that the duo visit the gardens. Vanitas relented, and soon he found the other boy skipping amongst the flowers. He seemed to be having so much fun that Vanitas permitted him to pick the blossoms as well. It didn’t bother the landlord, for the gardens were maintained with magic so that the vegetation could regenerate—plus, pixies made excellent guardians.

Vanitas lounged on the grass and closed his eyes, the breeze stroking his face and tussling his tresses. It was a marvelous afternoon, with clear skies and fluttering birds and butterflies. Such a climate made Vanitas grateful that he didn’t put his acreage up for sale (and thank goodness that the vampires in this region didn’t burn when exposed to the sun). It was so peaceful that he dozed off within seconds.

He was roused, however, by distant singing. Rubbing his eyes, he blearily sat up and listened intently to the clear, powerful voice and the unaccustomed lyrics:

_The timbres of love that you create are as beautiful as roses._

_No matter what fate has in store for us, I just want to protect you._

_More than flowers, more than birds are your beauty and sweetness._

_For you to be surrounded in happiness, I just want to protect you._

_I will protect everything you have._

Vanitas gaped slack-jawed at the source of the melody. Sitting in a flower bed was Roxas, wreathing a crown of red, pink and yellow roses. He was now humming the song under his breath without a care in the world, his fingers nimbly tethering the blossoms together.

If the aristocrat didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he was beholding a fallen angel.

He stood up, dusted the soil off of his pants and approached Roxas, observing the cloaked vampire add the finishing touches to his handiwork. He ultimately enunciated, “I didn’t know you could sing.”

Jolting from the abrupt comment, Roxas tittered nervously and admitted, “I don’t do it often.” He outstretched the arm whose hand was holding the garland. “Want it?”

“Want the…flower crown?” Vanitas asked, pointing to it. Roxas bobbed his head.

The black-haired boy grimaced. No offense, but that laurel would be an awfully distasteful ornament for someone overcast like him. It would clash atrociously with his dark hair. And come to think of it…

“I bet it would suit you more, to be frank.” He cocked an eyebrow at his latest friend. “Speaking of which, are you ever going to take off your hood? I never got to see your face properly.”

“My hood… Oh!” Roxas grappled the aforesaid object before laughing again, feeling rather foolish for not detecting it sooner. “I must have forgotten to take it off. Hold on…”

It was like watching slow motion. As Roxas tugged the affronting lid off of his head, Vanitas’s eyes traced the freshly revealed features with swelling apprehension.

Golden hair swept to one side. Thick eyebrows. Oceanic irises. A sharp nose, rubicund lips, soft cheeks and a smooth jaw.

Vanitas felt his breath catch in his throat, too stunned to produce a single sound. Never in his life had he ever encountered something so alarming and simultaneously _bizarre_ …

…For sitting opposite of him was the mirror image of Prince Ventus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trivia:**
> 
>   * Roxas nearly starves in Vanitas’s mansion due to lack of iron and sheer exhaustion (and his curse isn’t helping), so Vanitas has to give away some human blood from his stash.
>   * The Lockharts never learned the date of Roxas’s birthday when they first found the baby at their doorstep, but Roxas at a young age was fascinated with the number 13, so they set June 13 as his birthday. They didn’t realize that it was the actual date of his true birthday. Karma is pretty strong in this story, in more ways than one.
>   * The song that Roxas sings in Chapter II is _Pink Rose_ by Yūgō-P. [A cover by Kagamine Len V4X](https://www.bilibili.com/video/av33767015) can be found on Bilibili. Credit for the lyric translation is given to Hazuki no Yume.
> 



	4. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter centering around Sora and Ventus. The two sunshine children meet and stumble upon new revelations, one of which forces Sora to define the strange emotions for his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the end notes before reading this chapter. They will help clarify things that might not have been thoroughly explained in the text.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own _Kingdom Hearts_ or any of its elements whatsoever, just this story.  
> ※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

It was still morning when Sora woke up, having dreamt about devouring paopu fruit to the point of bursting. Grumbling loudly for the unanticipated expiration of his fantasy, he fiddled his hand for his Gummiphone, which was lying on a table adjacent to his bed.

Activating the device, he distinguished a notification stating that he had one new message. Tapping the screen, it lit up to reveal a text from Roxas. He nearly did a double take as he read the brief memo.

**_Roxas Chainblade:_** _Stepping out for a walk. Brought medication. No need to go after me._

Sora’s eyebrows were twitching erratically as he reviewed the message, his thoughts already turbulent despite just getting up.

_Roxas left the house… Roxas left the house. Roxas left the house and he didn’t bother to tell me?!_

The wailing brunette didn’t know whether to smash his phone on the ground or wallow in despair. Truly, it was a very difficult decision.

There was no way that he could just stay home when Roxas was at who knows where. Knowing the blond, he could have gone off to any part of the village, but after their conversation yesterday…

He wouldn’t actually execute such a reckless plot, would he? He wasn’t the type of person to act on impulse unless he became super emotional. (Those sporadic cases of passionate outbursts were terrifying to behold, by the way. It was like watching a rabid dog on the loose.)

But limiting him to the village for fifteen years without seeing the outside world was bound to drive anyone mad, so Sora couldn’t exactly blame him for running away. If only he took Roxas’s words more seriously…!

Sora narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t panic; otherwise, he would only be wasting precious time. Roxas couldn’t have gone far, anyway—Kingdom Hearts was a pretty tiny city-state, after all.

His fingers inched towards the great sword resting conveniently on his desk. He couldn’t afford to dawdle any longer, since Roxas was _his_ responsibility while his parents were still working, so he resolved to commence his search as soon as possible—

Well, after dressing up and eating breakfast, of course. The chestnut-haired boy groaned and buried his head in his hands. Today already had a horrific start.

* * *

That afternoon, Ventus was meandering inside the village, donning a brown cloak over his ornate costume and decipherable hair to assimilate with the crowd. He was making a desperate last-ditch effort to find his AWOL sibling before the sun set. If he didn’t find Lucian by then, he would certainly know the other’s location once someone was reported to be in an inexplicable and unexpected coma, but Ven wasn’t heartless enough to wait for such undesirable information.

Speaking of which, the prophecy mentioned a person who supposedly shared the same face as Lucian. However, Lucian was last seen as a baby. Where in the world would Ven be able to find his relation’s doppelgänger if he didn’t even know what Lucian looked like _now_?

The prince exhaled miserably underneath his hood. His sibling never deserved such a fate, as any child shouldn’t. Why couldn’t it have been him instead…?

He shook his head defiantly. No, he couldn’t think of such horrible things. Vanitas would knuckle him to oblivion if he ever heard of Ven harboring such dismal thoughts, and even yell at him, too—

“Ow!”

“Ouch!”

His contemplations were promptly interrupted once he collided into a young male with crown-shaped brown hair and blue eyes, wearing on the back of his shirt a strap that carried a giant sword. The prince’s hood had flopped down in the midst of the commotion, exposing his signature golden tresses.

“Ah, sorry!” he cried frantically, helping the other boy to his feet. How could he have been so careless? “Are you okay?”

“Oh! Um, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” The boy sounded friendly enough, so Ven sighed with relief. Then the brunette lifted his head, and Ven forced himself to repress a gasp.

His face was literally identical to his own and Vanitas’s—down to the shape of his eyes, his small nose and cheekbones—and his hairstyle was exactly like Vanitas’s, but the ebony-haired beneficiary had never mentioned having a family member in the village. The stranger was simultaneously staring at Ven with an equally bewildered expression, for he had been seeking out Roxas all day but to no avail, and he was therefore quite beat due to his failure.

“Roxas?” Sora asked uncertainly. “Is that you?”

Ven blinked, perplexed, before smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry; I believe you mistook me for someone else. I’ve never heard of a person named Roxas.”

“Oh…” Sora moped, his hair practically drooping (causing Ven to smother an unanticipated giggle). The boy in front of the brunette was unfortunately _way_ too approachable to be Roxas—the dual wielder never smiled at foreigners unless they were children. “I could’ve sworn, though… You look exactly like him.”

Wait a minute. _Wait a darn minute._ One did not simply acknowledge the subsistence of a random double unless the latter so happened to be a close relative or an _extremely_ atypical exception. There was also the fact that Lucian was born with blond hair and blue eyes…

Alarm bells were blaring inside Ven’s head as the prince gripped his cloak. If his inference was correct (and if luck was on his side today), then this russet-haired boy was possibly the key to locating Lucian, who was probably closer to Ven than he originally assumed.

“What do you mean?” he probed coaxingly.

“I don’t know!” Sora moaned as his arms flailed wildly, too engrossed by his hysterics to notice Ven’s fraught scrutiny. “It’s just that he scampered off today without telling me where he was going, and he has a _really weak constitution_ , so I panicked and combed the village for hours, and I thought that I found him, only to bump into you instead! And if I didn’t know any better, you could pass as Roxas’s twin or something! But I have no idea if he has one…”

Whatever the kid was rambling about made absolutely no sense. How could he not know if his friend had a _twin_? Shouldn’t it have been obvious beforehand? (And holy cow, that friend was _missing_?) Even so, Ven was trembling by the mounting onslaught of information as he demanded, “What do you mean that you _don’t know_?”

“How could I? My parents found him at their doorstep when he was a baby. They didn’t know how he ended up there, and they couldn’t find his family, so he just stayed with us… And why am I even talking to you?” Sora paused, watching a frozen Ven with a raised eyebrow. “I forgot that I’m not supposed to talk to strangers…”

Talk about a lot of hurt for Ven’s sensitive heart. It wasn’t every day that a person hypothesized a prince as a stalker. Then again, not everyone was aware of his physical appearance, either—he usually wore a disguise whenever he left the palace, so he couldn’t blame the kid for being wary. (Besides, Vanitas would treat this situation as if it were a joke.)

The blond scratched his head as he asked, “Would it be better if I told you my name, then?” Of course, that would result in blowing his cover, but the last thing he wanted right now was for the other teenager to report him of suspicious activity. The brunette was already giving him so many clues to Lucian’s identity, being a valuable asset to Ven’s fifteen-year-long mission, so frightening the child would only hinder it. Plus, based on Ven’s observations, the youngster seemed sweet and sincere, and Ven was more than happy to make another friend.

Contrariwise, Sora was chummy with the reclusive and guarded Roxas, who had taught him not to trust people on appearances alone, hence clarifying why Roxas always carried his swords with him whenever he left Sora’s house. If the discreet blond doubted someone’s intentions, that person would soon be talking to the tips of Roxas’s blades.

It turned out that Roxas must have had rubbed off this mentality onto his other half.

“No,” Sora answered mechanically (a bad habit that he picked up from Roxas, who was never afraid to refuse) before hastily stammering, “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

Ven glowed brightly, his grin an exact copy of Sora’s.

“Great!” he said jauntily, flashing his pearly whites as he placed a hand onto his chest. “My name is Ventus, but you can call me Ven.”

“Ventus…” Sora repeated, and then stiffened and widened his eyes. There was only one person in the entire kingdom who bore that name. “But doesn’t that make you the pri—mmph!”

“Shh!” Ven fretted, having clapped a hand over Sora’s mouth and sweating bullets. “I’m undercover right now. And you can just drop the formalities, since I was pretty rude to you before—and again. Oops.” He chuckled nervously as he relinquished his hold, flinging his hood over his head again.

Sora bobbed slowly, his posture slackening. He was a bit flabbergasted to ascertain that the renowned heir to the throne was so carefree and at ease, but also relieved that he was a placid and amicable young fellow. He was categorically the opposite of his look-alike.

“I’m Sora Lockhart,” he introduced, extending a hand. Ven grasped it and shook it heartily.

“Sora, huh? Nice to meet you.” Letting go, he continued in a more business-like manner, “You said before that I resembled your friend, right? I may as well tell you why I’m here, then, to clarify a few things. If I’m not wrong, I believe that we have something in common.”

“Something pertaining to Roxas, I’m assuming,” Sora agreed.

“I’m pretty certain of that now that I’ve heard of him, yes.” Ven looked onward at the bustling streets, where the residents were walking by and running errands, and then his eyes traced a nearby cozy café with outdoor seats. “Let’s go find a place to sit, and I’ll tell you everything I know. It’s going to be quite a long story, so I’m going to summarize it as quickly as I can, and goodness knows that it’s a lot of information to bear.”

Sora gulped after hearing that. Just what was going on that would require him to sit down? Still, he couldn’t complain at present. Up until this moment, he never found out why his childhood friend had been abandoned at his parents’ doorstep. Perhaps he was a member of the royal family who was taken hostage straight after his birth, and yet no one knew of his existence. And if he was truly related to Ven, wouldn’t he be better off at the palace where he could receive superior treatment for his condition?

The more Sora thought about the scenario, the more convinced he was of his theory. But it would be best if Ven confirmed it for him. It was no use clinging to false hope.

He nodded firmly at the masquerading prince. “I’ll keep that in mind. Lead the way.”

* * *

The two boys settled themselves at the café, where Ven proceeded to recount his outrageous tale, from the moment of Lucian’s birth all the way to his dramatic disappearance by the hands of the wicked fairy Maleficent. The prince even included the details of his and Lucian’s heritage, disclosing his mother’s hermaphroditism and how it had been passed down to Lucian, thus the (formerly) never-ending confusion over the baby’s gender, for both Sora and Ven were positive by now that Lucian was undeniably Roxas—and that Roxas had a tendency to vanish at the worst times.

At least that explained why Roxas freaked out when Sora once mentioned that they never changed clothes in the same room. The dual wielder must have had realized that his body was somehow different from Sora’s and hence became insecure over it, all the while unaware of his own physiology.

“I… I don’t believe it,” Sora murmured as he stared at the table, his eyes broad and distracted. Never had he expected to verify that Roxas was not only the prince’s _brother_ (and whose existence was concealed for the sake of the kingdom’s stability), but also that he was plagued and technically _genderless_. For the love of Pete, how would Roxas react to this nonsense?

Oh, who was Sora kidding? Roxas would flip if he heard about this. He abhorred secrets more than anything.

What was more, Ven suspected that Sora could break the curse because he had the same face as three other boys, two of which he already knew. Wait, did that mean he really had to _kiss_ Roxas? Where, though? Just what kind of life was he living all this time?

Ven was gazing at the brunette sympathetically. “I told you that it was a lot to take in,” he said gently, disrupting Sora’s irregular thoughts. “Honestly, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t believe myself, either.”

“Well, duh. Everything that you told me was so convoluted.” Sora sighed heavily, then narrowed his eyes at Ven. “For the record, Roxas doesn’t look like a ‘Lucian’ to me, if you catch my drift. He acts almost nothing like you.”

“…Huh. You think that he’d prefer his current name?” Ven asked. When Sora balked, he added rapidly with hands lifted in defense, “I swear that I won’t be offended.”

Sora asserted that yes, Roxas would rather go by the name that he grew up with, and so that issue was quickly resolved. But there was still the matter of Roxas’s most recent stunt and his curse.

Ugh, why was that boy’s life so messed up?

“Anyway!” Sora shouted abruptly, standing up and startling Ven, who nearly fell off his chair. “We shouldn’t waste any more time here! We have to find Roxas! Who knows what he’s doing? What if we’re too late? What if I won’t ever see him again? What if—”

He was rambling. Ven watched beads of sweat drip down Sora’s chin as the chocolate-haired vampire floundered his arms helplessly. Thank goodness no one else was here to catch him mocking a hooligan.

His breaths were also becoming incredibly shorter and raspier. Drat.

Ven stood and walked to Sora’s side, grabbing the catatonic boy’s shoulder. “Sora, please. You have to calm down,” Ven beseeched. “Agitating yourself is not making the situation any better.”

Sora must have heard him, for he ceased talking, yet was still trembling violently. Ven’s heart ached at the pitiful sight, and without thinking, the blond pulled the stricken brunette into a one-armed hug and petted his hair with the other arm’s hand, the royal heir’s brotherly instincts taking over.

“Take slow, deep breaths,” he instructed, and Sora complied, melting into Ven’s warm embrace. Unlike Roxas, who smelled like sweet milk and Tatarinow’s aster, Ven smelled like the fresh breeze and pinecones—unusual, perhaps, but just as pleasant. The older blond had both arms wrapped around Sora at this point, humming quietly—a habit that he shared with his brother. Even his voice matched Roxas’s. How were those two not twins again?

The two boys stayed in their position for a few more seconds, ignorant of the occasional glances thrown at them. There, Sora buried his head in Ven’s shoulder while Ven rhythmically patted Sora’s back, not minding the sudden dose of affection.

Eventually, Sora had been completely soothed, so they released one another, and Sora smiled bashfully at the prince.

“Thanks,” he said, ducking his head. “I really needed that.”

“No problem at all,” said Ven, grinning blazingly as usual, “though I’m quite surprised that you reacted like that.” He leaned forward, his hands behind his back as he scrutinized Sora prudently. “Just how much does my little brother mean to you?”

_…Bwuh?_

Sora blinked, tilting his head to one side. “What do you mean?” The duo had been using that phrase several times already, and it was getting tiring. “I care about him a lot; why shouldn’t I worry?”

He jolted when Ven straightened himself and presented a blank-eyed stare, shortly followed by a sneer that would make Vanitas proud. What did Sora do to deserve that?!

The fair-haired youth raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Sora, I’m not dumb. No one would start hyperventilating over a situation like this even if the person involved was merely a _friend_.”

What the _heck_ was Ven insinuating? Sure, Sora might have overreacted, but that was only because Roxas was precious to him and one of the greatest people in his whole life. Even though Roxas was mordant and feisty sometimes, he never hesitated to make Sora laugh whenever the latter felt down. He always accompanied Sora no matter the circumstances, and his smile was as beautiful as the sunset—

Oh. Oh, _no_. This couldn’t be happening. Of all the things that he learned this afternoon, he didn’t need this one!

Ven was tapping his foot, still waiting for a response. And Sora, in utter disgrace, provided one to him.

“Oh, gosh,” he muttered, burying his burning face into his hands. “I’m in love with _Roxas_.”

Ven beamed once more, but this time, his expression was infuriatingly smug. “Well, isn’t that a good thing? You’re his true love!”

Sora precipitously had a strong urge to punch someone, particularly the cloaked personage situated nigh.

“How can you be so sure?! And isn’t this when you’re supposed to give me the shovel talk?”

“Hm? You’re a nice kid, so I’m pretty sure that Roxas is in good hands. Besides, Vanitas can threaten you for me!”

“Now I’m scared.” Ven had mentioned the ebony-haired noble in his recollection, and from what Sora could tell, Vanitas was not very hospitable. The prospect of being hounded by him sent shivers down Sora’s spine.

“You should be.” Earning another shudder from Sora, Ven supplemented in a more comforting tone, “I’m absolutely certain that Roxas loves you back. He didn’t want you to worry about him, meaning that he cares for you very much. Granted, he was being a bit stupid, but has he ever tried to push you away?”

Sora remained silent, reminiscing the few instances in which he and Roxas cuddled, and in which the blond stole a kiss on Sora’s temple when he presumed that the other was sleeping. The brunette shook his head, cheeks flushed. “No. He was always good to me.”

“Well, there you have it.” The prince gazed at the cerulean sky, which reflected his and Sora’s irises, and turned to his companion. “Let’s go get Vanitas for help; he might have bumped into Roxas. We haven’t any time to spare if we want to find him.”

Ah, right. They were both on a mission now—an adventure, even. The mere notion made Sora quiver with delight. This was precisely what Roxas wished for when he left home, wasn’t it? Sora could finally understand, now that adrenaline was pulsing through his veins.

He nodded, balling his fists as he strode to Ven’s side. He didn’t care whatever obstacles would be tossed at them—he was going to save Roxas come what may. Why should it matter that Roxas was the lost prince of Kingdom Hearts? If Sora was obliged to serve as his knight, then so be it. And maybe, just maybe, the dark-haired swordsman would tell Roxas about his newfound feelings.

As long as he continued to follow Roxas’s heart, Sora would by no means abandon him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trivia:**
> 
>   * Tatarinow’s aster is a kind of flower. In Japanese flower language, it means, “I won’t forget you.” Remind you of someone?
>   * Up until this point, neither Sora nor Roxas has been romantically interested in anyone, so Sora was understandably slow in realizing his feelings.
> 



	5. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanitas spills the beans, and Roxas does not react well. Meanwhile, Sora and Ventus are embarking on a new journey…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! But this chapter is finally finished, and it comes with an illustration, so hopefully that will make up for everything. More illustrations can be found [here](https://twitter.com/hiryuu_majo100/status/1259477268184928256).
> 
> Please read the end notes before reading this chapter. They will help clarify things that might not have been thoroughly explained in the text.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own _Kingdom Hearts_ or any of its elements whatsoever, just this story.  
> ※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

Roxas stood inside Vanitas’s bathroom, holding a pile of clothes that the noble picked for him. He was replaying inside his mind the events that had occurred only a few minutes ago.

Vanitas had started gawking at him, pale as a sheet, as soon as Roxas peeled off his hood in the garden, giving the impression that he had just seen a ghost. He had regained his composure, only to mumble that Roxas’s coat was soiled and that the fair-haired boy ought to have washed up. (Granted, his clothes _had_ become moderately sullied during his mishap, so he couldn’t argue back. He also didn’t mind letting Vanitas wash his clothes for him, since the former had offered to do so.)

Still, why did Vanitas seem so disturbed after seeing his face? Roxas couldn’t think of anything that would warrant a horrid reaction.

No, never mind—he could. Initially, Vanitas reminded him of Sora. Perhaps something similar could be said about himself, but the chances of that transpiring were tremendously slim.

Putting that thought to rest, Roxas bathed and then donned his new clothing, which included a white lace shirt with black dress pants and socks. He had a nagging feeling that those weren’t actually Vanitas’s apparels, for they did not remotely suit the irritable nobleman, at least in Roxas’s opinion.

He was, however, wary when he found that the clothes fit him perfectly. Had Vanitas always had some sort of guest who preferred leaving his garments at his friend’s house? How odd, indeed.

The blond vampire stepped out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed from washing the dirt and grime off of his body, and into Vanitas’s private quarters, in which Vanitas was sitting at the same table where he was last tackled by Ven. The golden-eyed youth was resting his chin on his hand, his brows furrowed and his mouth grimacing.

Roxas took a seat on the other side of the table, laying his left hand on its surface. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Vanitas said back, his eyes lingering on Roxas’s hand, of which the index and middle fingers sported a black and a white ring, respectively. Had Roxas not left them on (accompanied by the necklace with a four-point star charm found in his coat pocket), he and Ven would have looked one and the same, for—as it turned out—the former was currently using Ven’s attire, whose owner had carelessly abandoned for Vanitas to salvage.

If Vanitas supposed that Roxas was the long-lost sibling of Ven, he certainly wouldn’t have any doubts left now.

He then lifted his head for his eyes to meet that of Roxas’s and swallowed, burning under the blond boy’s naïve gaze. The poor kid didn’t even know what he was walking into. Here was Vanitas, casually sitting in front of him, plotting how to spill terrible news to a potentially cursed child who had wronged no one.

He buried his anxiety deep into his gut and announced, “Look, there’s something that I have to tell you.”

Roxas opened his mouth to speak, but Vanitas spared him the chance by lifting a hand. “I’m going to warn you, though, that this may be a lot to take in, and I’m frankly doubtful about my theory, but still, uh… Don’t freak out.”

Roxas’s eyes twitched. Usually, whenever someone said not to panic, people still panicked because they knew that something was wrong, but they never knew how to react properly. Was this what they called “human nature” or sheer stupidity? “How is that any helpful?” the blond griped.

Vanitas groaned and revoked his previous judgement. This kid was _nothing_ like Ven. He was even more difficult than his double, if not grumpier, for goodness sake.

“I’m not good at conversation, okay?!” Vanitas snapped before rubbing his forehead. “Just…don’t interrupt me until I’ve finished. Deal?” He attempted to widen his eyes like a puppy’s out of pure desperation (a feat of which hopefully Ven would never hear), but by discerning his companion’s dry glare, he knew that his expression was hopelessly unconvincing.

Roxas creased his eyebrows, lips curled downward, but nonetheless nodded.

Thus, Vanitas began to talk.

Once could barely imagine how difficult it was for young Roxas to restrain his temper as his mind was assaulted with what he initially interpreted as blasphemy. The fact of being the long-lost son of the king and queen and the brother of Vanitas’s best friend made him cling frantically onto the tablecloth. The flippantly included detail of his inborn hermaphroditism had his knuckles trembling violently. And the meager mention of his curse (gosh darn it, his sleep attacks weren’t random at all, weren’t they?) triggered his skin to turn a ghastly shade of white; and his ocean eyes, whose gaze had always been intense and devoid of sentiment, were now cold and glassy and stormy, as if a tsunami were reflected in those deep blue orbs.

Vanitas was just concluding his speech when he locked eyes with Roxas, and he swore that the room temperature dropped several degrees. Drat.

He took note of the blond seething silently, whose fangs were visible and dangerously sharp as the he bit back a scream. Vanitas plucked up enough courage to entreat, “Can you at least say something?”

And Roxas jumped out of his seat and promptly exploded.

“Say something? WHAT THE HECK DO YOU EXPECT ME TO SAY?!” His pupils had shrunk in rage as he paced back and forth near the table. “All I know is that you’re telling me that my entire life has been an absolute LIE!”

“For goodness sake, Roxas, you’re straining yourself!”

“I’m not done. First you say that I’m royalty. Great—fantastic, even!” He was laughing frenziedly as he threw his arms in the air, and the other boy’s blood ran cold. “And now you’re telling me that I’m a—what—a hermaphrodite of all things?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“So yeah, I’m living a lie! I’m not normal; I’m not safe, so how in the world can you comprehend how I feel?!” Silver streams cascaded down his cheeks like a waterfall as he nearly choked on his words. “I… I’m not even a boy, Vanitas! I lived all my life believing that I was, and yet you kick down the door to my reality and say that I’m not. This was my _identity_ ; don’t you understand?!” He was crying softly now, his hysterics hindering his reason. “So, tell me, then. What…” He buried his head in his hands for a moment before lifting it again, his palms soaked with salty tears. “What the heck even _am_ I?”

“Roxas…” Vanitas closed his eyes, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. The child ahead of him was so bitter and miserable when he pent up his anger—just like Vanitas himself—that this prospect was frightening. “You know that it’s not my place to tell you what you are. It doesn’t _matter_. You…” He opened his eyes slowly and stared firmly at the lost prince’s face. “You’re whoever that you decide to be, and no one can tell you otherwise. Is that crystal clear?”

“But I’m not—”

“You _are_ if your heart believes so, and your heart never lies.”

Roxas didn’t speak for a few seconds, pondering over Vanitas’s (admittedly sappy) words, but the young lord knew that the silence wouldn’t last—not when there was something else to be considered.

The blue-eyed vampire ogled at the floor whilst he wryly muttered, as if he were resigned to a cruel fate, “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m going to die—and on my birthday, no less.”

Vanitas flinched upon hearing such a depressive and disturbing tone from the child’s mouth. This was the _last_ thing that Roxas should be discussing. “What? No, you’re not.”

“But I may as well be, aren’t I?” Roxas snapped more loudly, lifting his head to reveal tears swimming from his lashes, the fluid frosty like ice as it dripped down pale skin burning with white-hot fury. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Vanitas tried—and failed—to supply a decent comeback (what was there to say, anyhow?), so he only answered, “Nothing. Karma just hates good people.” Heeding this commentary, Roxas scoffed, so Vanitas retorted, “Enough of that, kid. You were willing to befriend a nasty person like me, so you’re definitely good in my books. And since you’re a member of the royal family,” he added gravely as he critically examined his companion’s lavish ensemble, interrupting a potential protest, “you were an easy target for Maleficent.”

Roxas’s azure irises flashed, and Vanitas mentally cursed his lack of tact.

“BUT—I—NEVER—ASKED—FOR—THIS!” Roxas screamed, backing heavily away from the table so that he wouldn’t give in to the temptation of throwing it across the room. Vanitas treaded after him, for Roxas was sidling toward the balcony and _holy cow, he was too close to the edge and there was no way that Vanitas would let him fall down_ … “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT; I HEARD ENOUGH; I WANT OUT; I DON’T WANT TO _WAIT TO BE_ _SAVED_ LIKE SOME _DAMSEL IN DISTRESS_ —”

“I KNOW!” Vanitas shouted, seizing Roxas’s shoulders before the blond could actually topple off of the terrace. “I know that you hate this, and it isn’t fair to you, but there’s nothing else that we can do!”

Roxas didn’t respond, so Vanitas assumed that the other vampire was too busy wallowing in despair and self-loathing. The ebony-haired noble exhaled weightily and continued, “Look, at least we know how we can help you, so don’t feel so glum—oi, are you even listening?”

But Roxas wasn’t. Instead, he had revolved his neck so that his head was facing the window, which revealed cotton candy clouds and a sky painted a soft pink and orange. Normally, Roxas would have sighed while mesmerized at the sight (for he used to climb onto the Lockharts’ rooftop just to watch), but at this point, he was staring with wide eyes and gritted teeth, frozen on the spot.

Vanitas turned his head to see what was stealing Roxas’s attention, and his stomach promptly dropped.

A sunset. How long had they been conversing? He’d only known the kid for a few hours, and his identity for even less. Did time truly pass that quickly, or were they simply not paying attention to the clock?

The boys shared a look of mutual horror before Roxas’s body gradually grew limp in Vanitas’s clutch.

_Gosh dang it all to heck—_

“No! Pull yourself together!” Vanitas screeched, but it was all in vain. Roxas’s eyes were already drooping, lashes fluttering as the younger vampire struggled to keep himself awake. Vanitas’s command had passed from one ear to another, wholly unregistered.

Writhing in panic, Roxas gasped as strange mirages flooded his mind. A grand throne room. Two boys, one with fair hair and another with black, standing beside each other. A crib with silk blankets. A tall, looming figure with green skin and beady eyes.

And finally, a boy with messy brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a large smile as he outstretched his hand…

Roxas unwittingly extended his own left hand, the rings glittering in the light, as if to grab onto the brunette in his vision. His only hope was standing over there, but said hope was so far from reach…

_I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone in this darkness. I never got to tell you how much you meant to me. Help me…_

“Sora…” he uttered faintly, and it was at this time that he felt his body growing numb. His mind was screaming at him to _fight back, darn it_ , but the curse was rapidly suffocating his train of thought.

Meanwhile, the cogs in Vanitas’s brain were spinning like mad.

 _That was the second time that he mentioned this Sora guy,_ he mulled over, but he couldn’t dwell on this discovery, not when he realized that Roxas’s eyes had finally shut.

He watched as Roxas’s hand sagged, and his own shot out to grab it. The weight of Roxas’s slumped body obliged Vanitas’s knees to meet the floor, earning a grunt as the lord buckled and adjusted his awkward hold.

He shuddered. Roxas’s hand was cold, and his head had tilted so that it was nearly buried in Vanitas’s torso. He looked eerily peaceful (albeit too quiet); it was almost as if gazing at a content Ventus…

_Oh, my gosh; what am I going to tell Ven?!_

The golden-eyed vampire frenetically tugged his Gummiphone out of one of his pockets and then hastily dialed his best friend’s number. As he cradled Roxas in his arms and waited for Ven to pick up, a single thought plagued Vanitas’s mind.

“Sora… Just who the heck _are_ you?”

* * *

Right at the moment when Vanitas was undergoing a mental crisis, Sora and Ven were making their way to Vanitas’s mansion. Ven had suggested a shortcut that only he and Vanitas knew about, which was fundamentally an empty pathway surrounded by only thick trees and abandoned brick walls from decimated shacks, in which peasants used to reside before King Cloud proclaimed that they needed more sufficient housing. One would have hoped for the walls to be torn down by now, but Ven had insisted that they be kept as his and Vanitas’s private playground, and who was to question the heir to the throne?

Sora glanced at the sky, furrowing his eyebrows. It had been bright and blue not too long ago, but trudging towards unfamiliar territory could certainly divert someone’s awareness. “Is it just me, or is it getting darker here?” he asked.

Ven copied Sora’s motions, taking note of the auburn hue, and he replied, “It’s not just you. The sun is already setting, so we better hurry.”

Sora frowned. “But that means the curse would have already taken effect, wouldn’t it?”

Ven bit his lip. The mere image of Roxas lifeless on the ground gave him chills. “…Yeah. That’s why we need Vanitas. Goodness knows that he can find people faster than I. I don’t want Lucian—no, Roxas—to be in the middle of nowhere, so Vani is our best source of information for now.”

He would have elaborated further, but there was also the fact that Vanitas had a sense of smell as excellent as that of a bloodhound, therefore explaining how he could always sense Ven nearby—but no one needed to know that.

Sora nodded absently, registering Ven’s words. Then he paused, his brain reiterating Ven’s last sentence. “…Wait a minute. Did you just call Vanitas ‘ _Vani_ ’?”

He was greeted with an abrupt “Urk!” and a flinch from Ven, whose cheeks were as red as poppies. Sora couldn’t prevent a silly grin from creeping onto his face.

Ven sputtered incoherently before squeaking, “It’s just a nickname! Don’t overthink it!”

“Ha, ha! Wasn’t going to.” Despite the reassurance, Sora decided to file this piece of news for safekeeping.

Ven scowled at the brunette—a very Roxas-like expression, Sora observed—and was about to retort when the boys heard an abrupt ringtone from Ven’s pants’ pocket.

Cocking an eyebrow, Ven fished for his Gummiphone and accepted the call, wondering who would have had the guts to call him at such an urgent time. A brash voice vibrated into his ears before he could utter a single word, so loud that even Sora’s ears could register it.

_“Ven! Ven, are you there?”_

Ven could recognize that voice from anywhere. “Vani? Is something the matter?” Vanitas usually didn’t initiate phone calls, and Ven rarely heard him speak in such an urgent tone. It was frankly alarming. “I was just heading back to your place.”

 _“Well, be faster!”_ Vanitas snapped, sounding as if he were on the verge of hysterics. Ven was too accustomed to his partner’s lack of social skills to reprimand him. _“I found him!”_

Ven had no idea what Vanitas was rambling about. “Him? Found who?”

 _“Roxas—no, Lucian—oh, forget it. Your kid brother!”_ Upon registering that declaration, Ven and Sora momentarily froze in their tracks. _“He’s at my house!”_

_Excuse me, what the heck?!_

It was suspected that Roxas would have been exploring the wealthier district, but having him situated in Vanitas’s residence was another story. Did Roxas really travel that far from home?

Bug-eyed and slack-jawed, the two wayfarers gaped at each other before screeching in unison: “WHAT?!” Today was filled with too many surprises. First, they had met the doppelgängers of their respective best friends, and now they were learning that Roxas had stumbled upon Vanitas’s home? There was no way that he did so by chance alone.

While a flabbergasted Sora was sputtering in the background, Ven managed to fire back, “How in the world did he end up there?!”

He would soon regret asking that question.

 _“He went past my wards, climbed up the outer walls like a maniac and literally broke into my room!”_ The comment elicited a series of guffaws from Sora so raucous that the brunette obliged himself to back away from Ven, hoping that Vanitas wouldn’t overhear him. Alas, it appeared as though Sora knew that Roxas would do such a thing.

Ven blinked dumbly for a few seconds. Out of all things to learn about his estranged brother, this was not what he anticipated. “He _broke into your_ —”

 _“I meant what I said!”_ Vanitas interposed nippily, desperately wishing to change the subject. _“And enough about that! He collapsed a couple of minutes ago, so I moved him to my bed, but I don’t know what to do!”_

Ven’s stomach twisted painfully as the elder prince listened to his best friend’s rants, but he shouldn’t have expected anything else. No one knew of a way to dispel the curse, but merely undo it. Still, that didn’t make the situation hurt any less.

He glanced at Sora, who was staring at him with wide, innocent eyes. That was right… All hope wasn’t lost yet; there was still a way out of this madness.

The fair-haired boy told Vanitas, “You’ve done plenty by taking care of Roxas.” He should at least respect his brother’s wish to be addressed as such. “I’m bringing the key to the prophecy with me—the one who has the same face as us.”

 _“You found them that quickly?”_ Vanitas queried. Then, after a brief silence, he added hesitantly, _“Is this person’s name ‘Sora’ by any chance?”_

Ven gasped. How did Vanitas know that? “Did Roxas mention him?”

 _“Only by name,”_ Vanitas confirmed, _“but who is he?”_

“Why, he’s Roxas’s best friend, apparently. Come, Sora,” said Ven, beckoning the brunette over to his side; “say hi to Vani.”

“Hi, Vanitas!” Sora chirped eagerly, flashing his signature blinding grin as he wrapped an arm casually over Ven’s shoulder. It was a shame that Ven was holding the phone at an angle at which Vanitas was unable to glimpse at Sora’s face, but the ebony-haired vampire (who was relieved to find out that Roxas’s assumed savior wasn’t a stranger) had heard enough.

 _“…Hi,”_ he blurted. A beat, and then a hiss: _“He has the same voice as mine, Ven!”_

Ven couldn’t argue against this claim, for Sora _did_ sound like Vanitas, albeit with a higher-pitched voice. Perhaps it would be a good idea not to describe Sora’s appearance at the moment.

Instead, he resolved that he had spent plenty of time chatting and said, “I’m going to hang up now. I’ll see you later.”

 _“Yeah. Take care.”_ And Vanitas promptly ended the call.

With that, Ven sighed and shoved the Gummiphone back into his pocket, then chuckled sheepishly at Sora, who was still clinging onto him like a monkey. Sora beamed back before letting go, and Ven understood at that point why Roxas liked Sora so much. It was so easy to laugh with the messy-haired boy, as if his smile could melt even the frostiest of hearts.

Of course, now was not the time to dawdle. Roxas and Vanitas were waiting for them, and Ven would rather not test the latter’s patience.

The elder prince cocked his head at the pathway and said, “Shall we?”

Sora opened his mouth to respond, but a different voice echoed from behind and beat him to it.

“I see you two have become quite close. That makes me so happy.”

The voice was that of an adult, and it was distinctly feminine and satirical. The hairs on the boys’ necks stood up on end as the duo turned around to identify the reciter. Ven in particular felt his stomach flip. How was this possible? Only he and Vanitas knew about this pathway, so how was someone besides Sora following him? He had been so careful with this secret…

Foregoing his musing, he inspected the intruder.

She was lanky, with skin so sickly that it looked sea green, and she possessed piercing eyes and thin lips. She wore robes as black as the night, and a pair of horns protruded from her head. Her nails were wrought like claws.

The boys’ eyes widened considerably as Ven bristled, his tone low as he growled, “Maleficent.”

The evil fairy narrowed her eyes and sneered at her target’s brother. “Ventus. It has been so long since I last saw you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trivia:**
> 
>   * While writing this story, I imagined the characters speaking in Japanese. In _Kingdom Hearts II_ , Roxas’s voice actor, Uchiyama Kōki, still had a prepubescent voice, which is what Roxas and Ventus sound like in the story. This is another allusion to Roxas’s hermaphroditism.
> 



	6. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle will determine Roxas’s fate…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I finished this chapter! The story will soon come to a close. Meanwhile, there will be quite a bit of action and drama packed in here.
> 
> Please read the end notes before reading this chapter. They will help clarify things that might not have been thoroughly explained in the text.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own _Kingdom Hearts_ or any of its elements whatsoever, just this story.  
> ※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

The first thing that the boys did after discovering Maleficent was think, _Oh, drat._ This expression of dismay was followed by them cursing their rotten luck as they stood there dumbly, like squirrels caught in the act of stealing tree nuts. Here was the most wicked and powerful witch in the kingdom, right before their very eyes. How were they supposed to handle someone like _her_ when no one had ever won a battle against her?

Sora uttered after an awkward silence, “Today is so not our day.”

Ven nodded, blanching and looking as though he were about to throw up, and agreed, “You said it.”

Maleficent only watched them with amusement, her irises glittering like those of a hawk, callous and predatory. “Aren’t you glad to see me, Ventus?”

“I will take the liberty not to answer that question,” Ven replied stiffly, his hand fiddling for the hilt of his sword that was hidden under his cloak as he adopted a more regal persona, “but I would appreciate it if you explained how you managed to find us.”

Sora fidgeted in his spot, his blue eyes shifting between the members of the feuding duo, but said nothing.

Maleficent, on the other hand, simply cackled. “You think I’ve forgotten the birthdate of your sibling, Ventus?” When Ven didn’t respond, she continued, “I thought that you would search for the child even now, so I stopped by the kingdom to pay a visit. Imagine my surprise when I saw you talking with that boy as I passed by.” She pointed at Sora, who grew rigid under her smirk. “No one saw me, but I could still kill two birds with one stone. Isn’t that brilliant?”

The boys stared at her with downright abhorrence. This witch was not only evil, but completely mental as well.

“Brilliant?” Sora repeated, aghast. “You were stalking us this entire time!”

Maleficent cackled again. “And what are you going to do about it? Will you try to go after your precious princess?”

Sora bit his lip and mused to himself, cheeks burning from the fairy’s snide comment. He and Ven could try to escape, but Maleficent would be sure to pursue them, and if they bumped into people along the way, they would inevitably get those people involved, for Sora knew that the fairy was sadistic enough to harm bystanders just by observing her grin alone. There was also the chance that the witch would catch the boys mid-run, so they had no choice but to stand their ground.

Ven seemed to have read Sora’s mind, for his eyes had hardened and he grabbed his sword. “We have to take her on,” he said quietly.

But Sora shook his head. “You should leave. You promised Vanitas that you would be careful, remember?”

“I’m not leaving you here with her!” Ven whispered. “She’s nothing but bad news. You should go find Roxas. Besides, I have a vendetta against her.”

“So do I!” After all, Roxas was important to both of them, and they would be damned if they didn’t do anything to avenge him when their source of grief was standing right in front of them. Seeing that Ven would not budge, Sora sagged his shoulders and sighed. “Fine, we’ll _both_ fight her, and I say this with the utmost respect, but please don’t get hurt.”

Ven grinned drolly, unfazed by Sora’s gloomy aspect. “That’s my line,” he quipped, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “I need you alive so that I can watch you kiss Roxas, you hear?”

Poor Sora, who had never kissed someone in his entire life, felt his face heat up and turn a vivid red as he stammered, “Wh-wh-what—”

The blond didn’t even wait for Sora to finish as he drew his sword towards Maleficent, the blade glittering under the twilight sun. “This feud ends today,” he declared, his face taut as he made a battle stance, which Sora copied as he unsheathed his own sword. Their pent-up rage towards this woman was ready to explode, as if it were molten rock begging to be released from its volcanic prison.

Even if they stood no chance against her, even if they pathetically lost this fight, they would not let her get away with her misdeeds—not when the royal family was after her head.

Maleficent only stared at them, her expression unreadable as she scorned, “So be it.”

And that was when everything went to heck super quickly.

Bright green flames suddenly shot up from the ground and engulfed Maleficent’s body ( _Greek fire, maybe?_ the nerdy part of Ven’s brain thought in awe), crackling and smoking and only enlarging by the second. The two boys stepped back, holding up their swords so that the blades would deflect the tiny sparks that burst from the inferno, which, by then, had alarmingly grown about a story tall.

When the fire finally dissipated, Maleficent’s thin womanly figure was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with a humongous beast whose skin was covered by purple scales so dark that they were almost black. The horned, serpent-like creature had a long snout with smoke puffing from the nostrils, and her eyes were in lack of pupils, merely glowing the same color as the long-gone blazes.

Meanwhile, Sora and Ven were gaping at the monster with undisguised horror.

“Good gosh,” Ven muttered under his breath, wondering whom he had upset for deserving such a dangerous foe to conquer (probably Vanitas). “Of all the stupid things…!”

“She just _had_ to turn into a fire-breathing dragon, didn’t she?” Sora moaned despondently.

As if on cue, said dragon roared ferociously, the air trembling in her wake and blowing into the boys’ faces. The two scrunched up their faces and closed their eyes to protect themselves from the unpleasant breeze.

“Apparently, yes,” Ven shouted through the wind, emitting an indecorous shriek as a fireball from Maleficent zipped by and nearly collided with his head. Recovering himself, he added, “We have to defeat her before she burns everything to a crisp!”

“Roger that!” Sora said, flinging himself towards the monster, with Ven right behind him.

The battle seemed fruitless at first. Try as they might, the boys’ swords could not pierce through the dragon’s sturdy scales, so they gave up on that attempt. The horrific beast also exhaled fire left and right, forcing the adventurers to dodge as they searched for places to attack. No matter how high they leaped, or how much strength they put into their blows, they found it difficult to land critical hits on their target.

But it was also during this predicament that the young vampires had a revelation.

Despite being in her dragon form, Maleficent was incapable of casting spells. And her movements were incredibly hasty and sluggish, having to bear so much weight due to her size. In short, for all of the power that she possessed, she lacked in speed and her sole talent: magic.

However, using speed tactics to counter her attacks would have been futile, for she could always wear down her opponents with sheer strength. Therefore, sorcery was the only approach at their own disposal.

Sora and Ven rushed behind a wall, using it as a shield against Maleficent’s chaotic assaults, and made eye contact, a mutual spark immediately flickering between them.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Ven inquired quietly so that Maleficent could not eavesdrop.

Sora stole a glance at the fairy-turned dragon (who was blasting fireballs in random directions), and then nodded. “We have to beat her at her own game, don’t we?”

A wild grin spread across Ven’s face. “Exactly. How good are you at magic?”

The brunette wilted like a flower, making Ven’s heart sink momentarily. “I’m not an expert, but I think I can pull it off… What about you?”

If Ven were not gripping his sword, he would have been twiddling with his fingers in agitation. “Speed is more of my forte, but I don’t really concentrate on other attributes. Sorry.”

Sora fought the urge to groan. It looked as though he had to do most of the work here. “So, we’re just going to wing it?”

Ven clicked his tongue. “Well, we’ve never fought a dragon before. What else can we do?” Hearing Sora whine in exasperation, he continued heartily, “It’s okay! I can still create a decent diversion!”

Realizing that they had no other choice but to execute this ploy (for they could not think of anything better at the moment), Sora said, “You do that. It’s all or nothing now.”

With their new plan in mind, Ven walked away from Sora and the wall, leaving himself exposed to his adversary, and then observed Maleficent, who was still furiously aiming her fireballs left and right. She had yet to take notice of Ven, who was desperate to gain her attention, as unwanted as it might be.

Ven could feel goosebumps accumulate across his arms the longer he stared at the dragon. Gulping down his trepidation, he cupped his palms around his mouth and shouted, “Hey, fire breath! Haven’t you forgotten whom you are fighting?”

His voice echoed through his makeshift megaphone and reached the angry dragon, who growled at him in response. Sora huddled from behind the wall, his eyes wide with reverence and terror.

Grinning savagely, Ven goaded the former witch by adding, “Catch me if you can!”

Agitated, the dragon roared and snapped her fangs at Ven, who swiftly dodged with ease. With Maleficent thoroughly distracted, Sora crept away from the wall and made his way behind her without uttering a sound. The beast continued to attack Ven relentlessly, but the prince would always hop away in time before hurling back insults that certainly did not suit his royal station. Clearly, Vanitas had been a terrible influence on the self-styled golden boy.

Truth be told, Ven was usually a clumsy fellow and tripped over his own feet at practically any place and any time. Yet during battle, he planned every move meticulously, dancing gracefully in no man’s land like a ballerina. So stealthy was he that he seemed so unlike the cheerful, silly youth who found joy in every little thing, leaving Sora (and sometimes Vanitas) gawking in bewilderment.

Speaking of Sora, the brunette was summoning all of his energy to perform a magic spell that would hopefully knock down the dragon. It was a difficult process, for he was not born as a mage and thus had to learn sorcery from scratch, not to mention that Roxas was more experienced with this skill. Even so, he could not give up now; Ven needed assistance, and Roxas was waiting for him.

Yes, that was right—Roxas was waiting. Sora had yet to reveal his true feelings to his childhood companion, so he could not admit defeat now—there was still something, or someone, for him to live for.

_Just a little more… Just a little more magic, and then Ven and I can find our friends._

He heard Maleficent roar in fury as Ven kept on hopping back and forth, avoiding her raids with absolute precision. She was even more lethargic than before, giving Ven the perfect opportunity to strike back.

Swinging his sword, he screamed, “Cyclone Drop!”

A flurry of pale green balls made of wind erupted from Ven’s sword and jammed into Maleficent, who howled in pain as she attempted to counterattack. However, she could not muster enough energy to move, and it was at this instant in which Sora confirmed that the brute had been stunned by Ven’s offensive. And conveniently, Sora had channeled enough magic by now. Perfect timing.

He leaped into the air, aiming his blade at Maleficent’s back. He hadn’t expected to use this sword skill so soon, but desperate times called for desperate measures. This strike was for Roxas.

_Here I come…!_

“Light Sword!”

It was a marvelous sight. Streams of silver light discharged from Sora’s foil, dancing about like little fish in the sea before bombarding into the stupefied monster like beautiful glittered bombs. The sheer force of the spell knocked the breath out of Maleficent, and hence, she could hardly even shriek in alarm from the painful onslaught. Sora almost felt bad for initiating the surprise attack. Almost.

The combination of Ven’s and Sora’s strength was too much for the dragon to handle, for she collapsed heavily onto the ground and did not rise again. Her entire body burst into green flames as the light dimmed from her blank eyes, the tongues of the fire licking the air defiantly for a few seconds before they and Maleficent dissipated into nothing. It was as if she had never existed in the first place.

 _It’s finally over…_ Sora almost wished to lie down on the ground and take a nap, but he would subsequently soil his clothes and forget about his task, so he reluctantly extinguished this notion.

He returned his sword to the strap on his shirt and leaned forward with his hands on his knees, huffing and sweating profusely. The spell had drained him quite a bit, it seemed.

Ven walked up to him, panting heavily as well. Then, he beamed and held a fist out, his blue eyes sparkling with triumph. “Mission accomplished?”

Sora’s mouth broke into a grin just as dazzling as Ven’s, and the brunette pumped his fist against his companion’s. “Yeah,” he agreed breathlessly, his cheeks flushed from adrenaline. “We did it, Ven. We actually did it!”

“Yes, we did!” Ven cheered, grabbing Sora’s hands and hopping gleefully, consequently earning a startled laugh from the younger boy. “I can scarcely believe it!”

Sora squeezed Ven’s hands, having calmed down from the conclusion of the battle, and for a few minutes, he felt as though all was right with the world. To think that he met his best friend’s double and avenged the brothers on the same day! It was frankly overwhelming, like he was in a strange dream that he didn’t wish to wake up from.

Then he gasped, “Oh! We have to find Roxas and Vanitas!”

Jostled awake from his temporary stupor, Ven reddened and exclaimed fretfully, “Oh, right! How could I have forgotten?” He grinned sheepishly at Sora. “Sorry, I was just so amazed by what happened…”

Sora briefly wondered how many mishaps Ven had gotten away with simply owing to his unimpeachable expression. Then he thought of Roxas, whose face was identical to his elder brother’s and yet, for some odd reason, could not feign innocence to save his life. The similarities between the princes were uncanny, but why were their differences so obvious? Sora couldn’t provide a proper answer.

But now was not the time to dawdle on such things. There were priorities to settle first, and one involved a certain blond.

Sora felt his heart clench upon the mere thought of seeing Roxas’s face again. He must have really had it bad, and no, he did not need to see Ven’s complacent smirk in order to confirm that fact.

The brown-haired youth turned to Ven and said, “So, Vanitas’s place?”

Ven nodded, chipper as ever. It was as if he were bursting to see Vanitas again. No one could blame him, not when Ven was also going to see his brother for the first time in ages. “Yup. Just follow me!”

The crown prince scuttled off, with Sora faithfully trailing after him. What a peculiar story they would be delivering to Vanitas soon!

* * *

The walk to Vanitas’s estate was a quiet one, for the boys were too absorbed in their mental troubles to chatter. Sora, in spite of being submerged in a lovestruck pipedream regarding his childhood friend, had caught Ven furiously wiping his eyes at least once during the promenade, but the former thought it wise not to mention this discovery, rather choosing to relieve the gentleman from further embarrassment. It could not be helped; with such a big heart, of course Ven would feel sentimental towards an estranged sibling of all people.

One could assume that the duo’s hike was fairly uneventful. Be as it may, actually entering the mansion was a whole other level.

As was mentioned before, the house was guarded by wards so that only people with express permission from the landlord were granted entrance. It needn’t be said that Sora was _not_ one of those people, and so the energetic brunette was presently nagging about how the main door refused to budge open.

“Why—won’t—it—let—me—in?!” he complained as he pushed all of his weight on the door, only to squeal in an unbecoming manner as a hex activated and stung him. “Some state-of-the-art security your friend has here,” he grumbled to Ven, who was barely attempting to conceal his laughter.

“That’s because I haven’t yet told Vani that you arrived,” Ven replied, grabbing his Gummiphone and dialing Vanitas’s number. “So far, only I can enter the manor. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to call him right now, and then you’ll be inside in a jiffy.”

“That better be true,” Sora griped, too frustrated by his apparent misfortune to acknowledge his petty attitude. Luckily for him, Ven had ignored the lack of courtesy and was already greeting Vanitas through his call.

Vanitas must have been feeling merciful that day, for only a minute at most had passed when the call ended and Ven announced, “Sora, you can open the door now.”

Sora obeyed, and he sighed with relief when the door finally creaked open without triggering an electrocution spell. Whooping, he frolicked inside the manor with Ven ambling behind him.

“Vani said that we should meet him at his bedroom,” said Ven, making his way in front of Sora. “Follow me!”

Sora was grateful to have Ven as his guide, for the journey to Vanitas’s room was unbearably long. The boys passed by corridors decorated with golden wallpapers, metallic frames holding paintings of fairytale forests, expensive vases home to exotic flowers, and rich red carpets with golden trimming. They ran up spiral marble staircases that had been polished enough to sparkle in the daylight, bringing a feeling of utmost shame to Sora when he realized that his shoes might soil the mineral. Everywhere the brunette went, he found all sorts of intriguing and luxurious articles that would make his parents seethe in envy. It was everything that he could dream of, but he could not help but feel lonely and stiff amongst the extravagance, because there was barely anyone living in the gigantic house and so many types of furniture and embellishments to avoid shattering. Somehow, he believed that Vanitas would have his head if the former were to accidentally destroy the decorations, and not even Ven would be able to restrain Vanitas’s temper. It was better for Sora not to test his luck.

Eventually, they came across an open doorway blocked by a figure with jet black hair and piercing eyes, and Sora immediately assumed this person to be Vanitas. As he drew nearer to the other vampire, he nearly froze in his tracks when he saw that Vanitas sported the same crown-shaped hairstyle and facial features as him.

And here, he thought that he was an only child. What was going on?!

On the other hand, Vanitas only paid attention to Ven, disregarding the brunette that was going through an existential crisis. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Vanitas exclaimed as his childhood friend ran up to him, the former panting from the lengthy run. “Where _have_ you been?!”

Ven told Vanitas about his encounter with Maleficent, encouraging Vanitas to fuss over the prince for a good minute or two. The sullen lord was further astonished to learn that Ven and his new buddy had managed to vanquish the wicked witch, a tremendous feat for juvenile vampires. Vanitas, the prideful young man that he was, did not praise Ven very often, so Ven would take as much as he could get.

Seeing that Ven was perfectly fine, Vanitas regained his composure and said, “So, where’s the twerp who is supposedly the chosen one for Roxas?”

Ven frowned, having unfortunately expected this attitude. “You haven’t even met him yet.”

“I’ll judge him when I see him.”

Thank goodness that Sora never eavesdropped on the conversation, too busy ogling at the overindulgence displayed in the hallway and attempting to calculate how much of a fortune he would make if he owned and later sold the riches. Ven was not in the mood to explain how much of a jerk Vanitas could be before warming up to people.

Instead, he grabbed Sora’s arm and dragged him over so that he was face to face with Vanitas. “Here’s the boy of the prophecy,” said Ven with the face like that of a proud father. “Please get along with him, Vani!”

How awkward the situation had become! Vanitas was opening and closing his mouth like a suffocating fish while Sora was chuckling tautly and twiddling his thumbs. Ven, apparently amused by watching Vanitas meet his double for the first time, casually grinned from the side.

Vanitas gawked for a few more seconds before blurting, “The heck is this?”

“Vani, be nice!” Ven warned indignantly, but Sora didn’t seem to pay any mind.

Vanitas did, however, if anyone could tell by his twitching eyebrows. “Are you kidding? It’s like I have a clone standing right before me!”

“This clone can talk, you know,” Sora pointed out, secretly wishing for Vanitas to drop the subject.

“Spectacular,” Vanitas deadpanned, still perturbed over the fact that someone shared his appearance. “If you’re looking for Roxas, he’s inside my room, so just go ahead and…do your thing or whatever.”

 _Do your thing._ Sora had never felt so embarrassed, his face as bright as a tomato. Vanitas rubbernecked skeptically as Ven hastily pushed Sora through the doorway, the crown prince already prepared to scold Vanitas for scaring off a potential friend—not that Sora was bothered in the least.

Sora turned his head and noticed that Ven was still on the other side of the doorway. “Don’t you want to come in?” he inquired.

Ven shook his head. “As much as I want to meet my brother, I think that he needs you more right now. I can wait.”

“You sure?” Sora knew that Ven had spent years searching for Roxas. It was natural to want to see an estranged sibling as soon as possible, so Ven either had plenty of patience or didn’t know how to take opportunities seriously.

Ven nodded with a faint smile. “Yep. I’ll give you some privacy. Good luck!” Flashing a brief wink at the brunette, the blond closed the bedroom door, leaving Sora standing torpidly in the vast chamber.

Had the current situation not been an emergency, Sora would have taken the time to drink in the nearly irresistible sight before him. What a marvelous room Vanitas had! Sora’s undersized but cozy room was a mere shed compared to this monstrosity filled to the brim with deluxe adornments. Was this how the nobility lived every day? Did that mean that the king and queen had a bedchamber similar to this one?

But Sora was concentrating more on the small form lying on Vanitas’s bed.

It was Roxas, but at the same time, it wasn’t him at all. He was dressed in a white lace shirt and black dress pants, accentuating his delicate figure, and sported the flower crown that he had molded earlier that day atop his fluffy blond hair. With his hands folded in front of his chest, his long eyelashes and his slightly parted pink lips, he reminded Sora of the stunning princesses from their childhood fairytales.

Sora knelt by the side of the bed and gently placed his hands over Roxas’s. As he watched the sleeping boy’s peaceful expression, Sora could not stop the tears from springing out of his eyes. Why was Roxas’s life so cruel?

“I’m sorry,” Sora wept, resting his forehead on their intertwined hands. “I tried to find you as fast as I could, but I’m here now. And…” The tears flowed down his cheeks and dropped harmlessly onto pale skin. “If I knew about the curse sooner, I would have protected you better…”

Roxas didn’t reply, letting Sora only cry harder as one of his trembling hands reached over to stroke the fair-haired boy’s cheek. Sora knew full well that Roxas could not hear a single word, but this perception made it all the better to speak now.

“You know, I’ve been thinking… Ever since we were little, you would always look after me. You were pretty aloof most of the time, but whenever you were with me, you would smile and be gentle, and that always brightened my day.” Sora’s moist eyes blinked. “I’d like to see that smile again. You don’t know how important you are to me. So, please…”

He gazed at Roxas for a few seconds, his stomach full of butterflies. He really wanted to kiss the blond right now. But would it be okay to do so like this? It wouldn’t be without his consent. And if Sora stole Roxas’s first kiss, how would Roxas react? Would he be angry? No one wanted to get on his bad side…

But wait. Perhaps Sora didn’t need to kiss him on the mouth…

With that thought in mind, Sora leaned over and softly pressed his lips to Roxas’s forehead, reminiscing the time when Roxas had done the same to him such a short time ago. “…Wake up for me?”

* * *

_So dark…_

There was neither light nor time in this dream-like realm where Roxas resided. It was simply a pitch-black ocean, an endless abyss where only memories existed. Roxas floated there aimlessly, arms lagging and eyes drooping, and feeling ever so sleepy…

 _It’s cold and lonely here,_ he thought mechanically. There was nothing to do in this place, and Roxas could barely process what was happening around him. He only knew that he was drifting and breathing in this infinite sea of oblivion.

Gosh, he really wished that someone were with him…

“Roxas…!”

An adolescent voice echoed across the vast space, and Roxas slowly opened his eyes. A few meters before him was a glowing star as large as his palm, the only source of light that he could find.

 _Whose voice was that, I wonder…_ He rubbed his eyes and blinked, wondering if what he saw was a hallucination, but the ball of light was still in front of him as bright as day.

Then the voice spoke from the orb: “Roxas, you’re not alone!”

Roxas gasped. He knew that voice; he could recognize it anywhere. “Sora?”

The shape of the star began to morph, and Roxas’s eyes widened as Sora’s cheerful form materialized from the star’s original location. The brunette’s mere presence dazzled Roxas numb, for he was like the sun, so blinding and grand, whose warmth was not harmful when one drew near, but welcoming and secure. What was Sora _doing_ here? Was he even real, or was he just another fragment of Roxas’s imagination?

Roxas licked his lips nervously and asked, “Sora, what is going on?”

Sora laughed good-naturedly. “You’re sleeping, remember? That’s why you have to wake up!”

Roxas looked down momentarily and faintly repeated, “Wake up…?”

That was right; the awful curse inflicted upon him during his infancy had forced him to fall asleep. In other words, the Sora in front of him was probably not real. None of this…was real, right? But Sora’s words sounded so clear that Roxas couldn’t help but listen. After all, there was no one else to listen to…

Roxas murmured, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” It might have been a bit pathetic for him to say such a thing, but he was so tired of wasting away in this void.

“Then don’t be,” said Sora, outstretching his hand. “Here, grab on! I’ll be with you.”

Roxas smiled, nodded at Sora, and grabbed the other’s hand without a second thought, eager to leave this place. To Roxas’s surprise, it felt warm under his touch. “I know you will.”

_We’ll be together forever, won’t we?_

His vision was enshrouded in white, and breaking free of this reverie, Roxas finally opened his eyes.

* * *

_Ugh, what time is it?_

That was the first thing that came to mind as Roxas blinked groggily and observed his current surroundings. He was lying atop a luxurious bed with a grand canopy and silky sheets, so he figured that he was in Vanitas’s bedroom. But Vanitas was nowhere to be found. Rather, there was another youth with spiky russet hair at Roxas’s bedside, his head resting on Roxas’s lap as he sniffled and clung to the blond boy’s hands as if they were a lifeline. Given the situation, Roxas felt that he would have been better off at a hospital.

Then he gasped and nearly jolted. He was awake! He was really, truly awake! It must have been Sora who broke the spell, for he was the only other person in the room. And yet Roxas couldn’t bring himself to sit up. Vanitas’s bed was so comfortable and velvety; how did the black-haired vampire manage to get up every morning? He ought to have known what blessings he owned.

However, Roxas was raised to not be lazy, and thus he freed his right hand from Sora’s grip and tapped the brunette’s cheek. Stirring, Sora lifted his head, only for his azure eyes to meet identical baby blues.

Roxas stifled a chuckle as Sora stared at him like a deer in the headlights. The fair-haired boy’s hilarity did not last long, however, once Sora’s eyes started to well up.

“Roxas…” Sora uttered before promptly tackling his friend, who grunted from the sudden onslaught. “Thank goodness you’re finally awake!” he cried, snuggling his head into Roxas’s neck like an enthusiastic puppy.

“Oh, gross!” Roxas laughed, hugging Sora back. “You’re going to get snot all over me! Back off!” But he made no move to let go and instead began to pet Sora’s hair.

They remained in this position for a while, both taking comfort in each other’s presence, assured that they were alive and well. Sora hugged Roxas tighter, and Roxas giggled from receiving so much affection. How strange, though—Sora was always a demonstrative person, but never to this extent. Maybe he was just overwhelmed by today’s chaos, but it wouldn’t hurt to confirm this speculation, would it?

“So, when are you going to let go?” Roxas probed, for Sora’s arms were still wrapped around his friend’s torso.

Sora only shook his head. “It took so much effort to get you back to normal; I’m never letting go.”

“Never?” Roxas asked while lifting a disbelieving eyebrow, and his gaze was so sincere and gentle that Sora imagined himself melting into a besotted puddle.

Blushing as red as a beet, Sora mumbled into Roxas’s shirt (which smelled faintly of flowers and the summer air), “I love you too much to do so.”

Roxas’s heart did an imaginary thump as the young prince processed Sora’s declaration. They had said “I love you” to each other so many times as children, but those simple words felt so different now that the boys were older. Certainly, Sora didn’t love him _that_ way, right?

Masking his anxiety with a fresh grin, Roxas said insouciantly, “I love you, too, doofus.”

Sora frowned and lifted his head, revealing just how ruddy his face had become. “No, you misunderstand! I… I love you in the way that I want to spend my life by your side, and hold your hand, and cuddle you all the time, and go on rendezvous, and…” He groaned and buried his face in his palms. “Ugh, I’m rambling again. But I am really _in love_ with you.”

Roxas sat up, completely frozen. To hear such sweet words from Sora’s mouth was like a dream come true. But the cynic in Roxas’s heart knew that not all dreams would last, no matter how tremendously delightful they were.

“I love you, too,” he admitted, his fingers picking at the silky bedsheets. “But Sora, hasn’t anyone told you? I’m not really a boy, or a girl, or anything in between. Or maybe I _am_ something in between; I don’t know.” His eyes watered, the tears blurring his vision. “Now that you know the truth, will you still love me?”

Some people were very fickle when it came to love—they would pick and poke at their partners’ flaws, or they would become attracted to someone else, and the parties overall would be left either as shallow as puddles or as miserable as beggars, so perhaps their definition of love was inconsistent—and Roxas was aware of this wretched detail. The love that he felt for Sora was simple and pure, but there was an irritating little voice in his head, nagging that perchance Sora did not view him the same way, much against his better judgement.

He closed his eyes briefly, waiting for a stinging rejection. Yet he gasped as he found himself pulled into a tight embrace.

“Roxas,” he heard Sora whisper into his ear, “it doesn’t matter to me _what_ you are. I want you for _you_ , and nothing can change that.”

The fantasy pile of stones churning in Roxas’s stomach dissolved as the blond relaxed in Sora’s arms. No one could describe how relieved and jubilant he was from receiving this confession. It was as if all of his fears had been erased from reality. “Are you sure?” he whispered shyly.

“I’m sure,” said Sora firmly, releasing his hug and placing a hand on Roxas’s burning round cheek, “and I really, _really_ want to kiss you right now. May I?”

Roxas fiddled with the bedsheets again as he wiggled nervously from his perch, then nodded at the brunette and closed his eyes. Sora gulped from the sight of the other’s long eyelashes. “…Yes.”

Sora smiled, caressing Roxas’s cheek with his thumb, and slowly leaned forward, finally pressing his lips to those of his new lover.

The modest osculation sent shockwaves of pleasant warmth trickling down Roxas’s face, bosom and limbs, blooming like static flowers all across his body and shedding a feeling of sheer giddiness that nearly made the boy tremble. He kissed back feverishly, pouring the vast amount of love that he felt for his partner into his gesture, with butterflies fluttering in his abdomen. Sora pulled closer him so that their chests were touching, and Roxas wrapped his arms around Sora’s neck, their lips still connected, yearning to further reduce the distance between him and the source of his lifelong hope and joy.

Eventually, they parted for air, and Sora failed to hold back a smirk when he saw that he had reduced Roxas to a flustered mess. He looked so precious, his cheeks as pink as cherry blossoms as he touched his soft lips dazedly. How Sora wanted so badly to pounce on Roxas and hear that silvery laugh as he peppered the other youth’s sweet face with kisses!

Roxas, upon noticing that Sora was staring off into space, giggled and planted a brief and chaste kiss to Sora’s mouth. If Sora were a bird, he would have preened, but instead, he nuzzled Roxas’s cheeks and held him tight, a silly grin rooted in the darker-haired lad’s face.

“Ahem…”

Roxas and Sora simultaneously turned their heads, only to find their mirror images standing right in front of the bedroom doorway. Prince Ventus looked as if he were in an elated fit (if that made any sense) as he fought back the urge to squeal in a most unmanly fashion, while Vanitas was watching the couple with pure disgust, for he did not appreciate having people act lovey-dovey in his own private quarters, regardless of whether or not said people were his friends.

The couple had the decency to act embarrassed as its members abruptly pulled away from each other, chuckling nervously. “Sorry,” Sora wheezed, appearing as though he had been caught stealing cookies from a cookie jar.

“Oh, no, don’t mind us. Please continue!” countered Ven, who was swiftly punched in the arm by a clearly disturbed Vanitas.

“Really, Ven? In _my_ bedroom?” Vanitas hissed, and Ven rubbed his own neck playfully.

Sora remained seated on the bed, conflicted as to whether or not he should interfere with the quarrel on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, Roxas was irritably taking in Ven’s facial features with a critical eye.

“Sora,” he whispered, poking his companion’s shoulder, “is that who I think he is?”

Sora immediately perked up. “Oh, yeah! Hey, Ven!” he called, beckoning the older prince over, to which the latter obliged. “Let me introduce you guys. This is your brother Lucian, a.k.a. Roxas!” For emphasis, he made a jazz-hand gesture that, in Roxas’s opinion, was absolutely unnecessary, but the blond didn’t comment.

Ven glanced fondly at Sora and directed a dazzling smile at his brother, showing off his pearly whites. He was bubbling with relief for Roxas’s recovery; nevertheless, he also squashed the jittering anxiety of being face to face with his alienated relation.

He said perkily, “It’s so nice to see you again after so long! I hope you’re not freaked out by us looking identical.”

“Not at all,” Roxas replied courteously, though his eyes told a completely different story. (Vanitas raised an eyebrow after hearing the blatant lie.) “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ventus.”

Ven squeezed Roxas’s hands gently, and Roxas automatically squeezed back, absorbing the overflowing familial affection. “Call me Ven. After all, we’re family.”

Roxas beamed, nodding back, and Ven pulled him into a hug that was reciprocated.

Watching the brothers reunite, Sora thought of what he deemed as a brilliant idea.

“You know what this calls for?” he piped up abruptly, gathering everyone else’s attention. “Group hug!”

The responses to this suggestion were various: Roxas sighed, Ven cheered and Vanitas groaned. Ven, despite knowing full well that Vanitas was not fond of physical contact, had the gall to shout, “Come on, Vani! Join us!”

…Ah.

Roxas snorted under his breath. “ _Vani?_ ” he repeated mockingly, much to the ebony-haired boy’s dismay. A series of chortles erupted from the bystanders.

Vanitas shook his head furiously, slowly pacing back to the door. “Oh, heck, no. There is _no way_ that I’m participating in this—”

He wasn’t given any time to flee, for he unleashed an undignified squawk as Ven tugged him into the cluster, and soon enough, the four youngsters were wrapped together in a tangle of limbs, hooting and protesting, squirming and wrestling. Gradually, the struggles ceased, and Roxas and Vanitas resigned themselves to their fates, encompassed by those who loved them with all of their hearts.

Of course, Vanitas decided to end the festivities (perhaps to avenge being smuggled into the group hug without permission) by negligently pointing out, “We should tell the king and queen about Roxas.”

Sora whined in disapproval while Ven mumbled, “Can’t we stay like this a little longer?”

Roxas and Vanitas, still smothered by their chums and desperate for some breathing space, glanced at each fleetingly before flatly and synchronously answering, “No.”

Sora muttered something about Roxas and Vanitas being no fun, and Ven pouted, complaining to his childhood friend, “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Can we just leave?” Roxas asked exasperatedly. “I’ve been stuck in bed for quite a bit, and I really need to walk around. I think my legs are growing numb.”

An awkward beat cut off the bickering. Ven coughed into his fist. Who knew that this kid could be such a grump? “…Yeah, sure. I’ll lead the way!”

And thus, the newly formed quartet set off to the royal palace with high spirits, its most urgent conflict resolved and waiting to be chronicled as one of the kingdom’s greatest tales of all time.

* * *

“Hey, big bro.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“How long is the walk to the palace, by any chance?”

“Oh, it shouldn’t be too long—a couple of minutes at best. But we might have to climb a hill along the way…”

“ _A HILL?!_ Sora, I changed my mind. I don’t want to walk anymore. Can you carry me?”

“ _Huh?_ But I’m climbing, too—ACK! My back!”

“…Seriously, what is wrong with you people?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trivia:**
> 
>   * I know very little of battles in _Kingdom Hearts_ , so I simply used the mechanisms in _KINGDOM HEARTS Union χ[Cross]_ , in which, for example, enemies whose attributes are primarily based on power can be countered with special attacks using magic.
> 



End file.
